


Atlantis Vision

by LiviaJayde



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Gen, Romance, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiviaJayde/pseuds/LiviaJayde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this epic sequel to the Escaflowne series, we once again return to Gaea, a world that has peacefully been rebuilding since the day a white dragon spread wings and soared across the sky. In Zaibach, however, an ember still glows unnoticed. Will the return of Hitomi Kanzaki to this world once again prevent those with the arrogance to try to control fate returning to power?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return of the Girl from the Mystic Moon

It had been three years. Three years since that fateful night when Hitomi Kanzaki had been transported to a mystical world to stop an evil empire from destroying it by controlling fate itself. Returning to everyday life after her adventure had been difficult, nearly impossible at first, and every day she missed Van as much as the first day back. Yukari and Amano had no memory of that fateful night, and Hitomi supposed it was just as well. She had given up fortune telling, and aside from the rare glimpse of Van in a mirror or a white feather on her pillow when she woke up, there were no traces of the time she had spent in Gaea.

High school passed quickly, and her best friend had been accepted into Tokyo University. Hitomi had declined going to college; instead she worked part time at a convenience store, making enough money that she could afford a small apartment a few blocks from her job. Recently, she'd found herself yearning for Gaea more and more. She had no way of returning, but how she wished she could.

She was surprised out of her train of thought when Yukari walked into the convenience store.

"Hey grumpy! I've got some great news!" The redhead grinned at her, propping her elbows on the counter.

Hitomi laughed. "I'm not grumpy; I was just being a little nostalgic."

"Wow!" Yukari exclaimed. "Your hair's really starting to get long! I was so used to that short cut you sported in high school, I'm still getting used to it being below your shoulders!"

"You know I kept it short for track, after high school I decided to let it start growing out. Besides, it wouldn't be so surprising if you saw me more often Ms. College. Anyway, what's your big news?"

"Amano-kun is to be visiting me for a little bit starting next week; and I thought I'd invite you out to dinner one night!" Yukari squealed.

Hitomi smiled for her friend. It really was nice that she and Amano-sempai had started dating long-distance and the relationship had grown over the years. Absently, Hitomi thought of Van, and her heart ached for the person she loved most but couldn't see. It took the definition of "long-distance" to a whole new level - Snapping back to the conversation, Hitomi smiled and accepted the invite, earning a big hug from Yukari before she dashed off for class.

After work Hitomi returned to her apartment and made some instant noodles, then curled up on the couch with a new book. That's how she spent most of her days, and tonight wasn't any different until a noise distracted her from the words on the page she was reading. She looked up and glanced around the quiet apartment. With a sigh, she returned her attention to the book, and heard the faint noise again. She glanced up again, but the apartment was quiet. She slid off the couch and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. A faint melodic noise caught her attention as she passed by the bedroom door. For a moment she wondered if it was her cell phone, but remembered her cell phone was by the sofa. Curious, she opened her bedroom door and the faint melody grew stronger. She glanced about the room, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. She checked the window and it was closed, so she tried following the sound to its source. As she walked the apartment the melody grew louder near the bathroom. Confused, Hitomi pressed her ear to the door and could almost make out the words of the song. She reached for the knob and paused, considering what she would find on the other side. A person might have broken in and was using her shower, or . Her heart thumped heavily in her chest as a more improbable option crossed her mind. She drew a deep breath and opened the door, flicking on the light.

Nothing was there, and the room was quiet. Hitomi glanced around and shut off the light. She closed the door and laughed at herself. With a calming breath, she turned around, and found herself staring at a ghostly image of a tall woman with piercing blue eyes, white hair, and pale skin. She was draped in a dark cloak and had long pointed ears that instantly reminded Hitomi of Merle, although there were no other cat-like features or markings, just two small red dots above the woman's eyebrows.

"It's time to return." The woman stated softly.

Before Hitomi could open her mouth to ask if she was dreaming, she was bathed in a pale light and she felt gravity let go. Floating a few inches off her apartment floor she closed her eyes, ready for the rush of energy that she was sure would lead to only one place ...

ф

A still pond lay silent in the middle of a field in Gaia, surrounded by tall grass. Suddenly Hitomi burst through the glass-like water surface, gasping for air. She began flapping her arms in wild confusion before swimming toward the muddy bank. When she had finally crawled out of the water, she kneeled in the mud, coughing to rid her lungs of the water.

This was it? This was the return she'd been waiting for these three long years? She had expected to see Van standing before her with open arms in all of his winged glory. And yet here was the long awaited moment of return, wading through the black mud of a pond in the middle of nowhere. The sweats she had curled up in after work hung heavy on her body; she was forced to pull her heavy pants up to her chest, mud caked from her knees weighing them down. She hadn't even been wearing sneakers, just colorful padded socks, now ruined with the sticky black mud. What a picture she made to return to her beloved after these three long years. And that was assuming she'd even find Van. How would she even know where to begin?

"You there!" a loud voice came from behind her. Hitomi stiffened with a squeal. "Hands in the air!"

She looked over her shoulder. A soldier, in heavy armor reminiscent of the ancient Japanese, pointed a bayonet at her upper back. "B-b-but-" she stuttered.

"Now!"

Reluctantly, Hitomi raised her hand and her pants fell to the ground, into the mud around her ankles. Her Hello Kitty panties peeked out from under Yukari's heavy Tokyo U hoodie she had borrowed at their last sleepover.

"Oh!" the soldier cried. "Uh... looks as if you're unarmed. That pillar of light sorta freaked me out. I thought maybe some high-tech weaponry-"

"Can I pull up my pants now?" Hitomi squealed.

"Oh, sure!" The guard blushed. "Sure is a strange outfit you're wearing. Especially for a lady."

"Gaia hasn't changed much since I left, I see..." Hitomi sighed. "I'm looking for Van de Fanel. Do you know where I could find him?"

"Of course, miss! You didn't miss Fanelia by much." Taking off his helmet, he is revealed to be quite handsome...for a bear man. "Just through those woods. Please, allow me to escort you."

The soldier and Hitomi trekked through the forest, finally reaching the outskirts of the city within. A kind old man with a wagon being pulled by oxen offered a ride, and they settled into the cart. Hitomi sighed at the medieval-like scenery. A thriving marketplace buzzed with activity. Children played outside mud and reed huts with happy mothers in aprons cooking and cleaning nearby.

"Fanelia sure has done a great job rebuilding since the fire..." Hitomi recalled.

"Yes. Hundreds of people from other lands have come to be citizens of this great country," the soldier told her. "Their help is what has made reconstruction so speedy."

*It's as if they have no idea of the bloody, fiery battle that blazed only three years before,* Hitomi thought to herself. Suddenly, a scream pierced the air. In terror, she turned only to see an excited game of tag being played by several small children. Hitomi sighed a breath of relief. *I must find Van. I've been brought back for a reason, and I need to have him by my side when I discover what that reason is.*

Once they reached the palace gates, the solider helped Hitomi from the cart. It was a long walk to the palace itself, but Hitomi didn't mind. She needed a chance to dry off, and the gardens of the castle were beautiful. In the center of these gardens, just before the steps leading to the palace doors, was a stunning statue high on a pedestal: a woman with enormous wings spread behind her. Hitomi knew immediately it was Van's mother.

Inside the palace, the bear soldier, which Hitomi now knew as Adams, had quite a time convincing the guard to let her inside. Once inside the inner sanctum, not one person spared her a look of disgust. Each stare chipped away her already sunken self-esteem.

"Perhaps we could find a suitable outfit for you before presenting you to Lord Van..." Adams offered.

The idea was tempting. "No... it's very important that I see Van as soon as possible." In the hallway they passed a mirror. In a futile attempt to enhance her appearance, Hitomi ran a hand through her matted hair. Aside from being frizzy and damp, it was now much longer than her previous visit. In fact, she had changed quite a bit overall. Her sedentary lifestyle had given her a curvier figure ok, who was she kidding? She'd gone from a size 4 to a 14 in the single year since high school. Track had been her life, then overnight it seemed that whatever she ate usually Cup o' Noodles and Mac'N'Cheeze, the diet she could afford working part time and having her own place went straight to her ass. Yukari hadn't said anything, but she found herself more and more in sweats and clothes her mother asked her to drive to the Goodwill. Somehow she had overlooked it all, until now. Standing in front of a mirror in Van's palace, a hot fat mess. (btw: Size 14 is not fat, but it's a BIG difference to Hitomi!) Would Van even recognize her?

"Miss?" Adams asked, jarring her from her thoughts. He was holding open a large wooden door. Guards were posted on either side. Hitomi knew that this was it, that Van was just on the other side of the door. Suddenly she knew he would still want her, still love her. He would still come running to her with open arms. And maybe, just maybe, they could share that first sweet kiss. With chest puffed out (it was much larger now, after all), and chin held high, Hitomi marched through the door.

Van, sitting in his throne, now sported a thick beard and wore armor over his chest and shoulders, a cape stretching behind him, folded over the arm of his large throne. Seeing Hitomi, he immediately reacted by stumbling to his feet. Without a word he stared across the long length of the throne room, down the yards of red carpet, to the drenched, muddy figure standing, now trembling in his sight.

"Hitomi," he breathed. "You-" he struggled with the words. "You're you-"

"Got so fat!" Merle interjected. She walked around a second throne seated next to Van's. In sharp contrast to Hitomi, she was the same slender, furry figure. The same catty, bitchy smirk. But she too had aged beyond her childish figure. In her tightly corseted gown, her full bust was pushed high on her chest, as if they too were mocking Hitomi. Her hair was pulled into a more regal up-do.

"Merle!" Van scolded.

"What? She leaves for three years and shows up looking like something that the cat dragged in!" She took a second look at Hitomi. "Ick! Nevermind what self-respecting cat would bring that home? Not to mention the smell-" she held her nose in disgust.

"It's not as if I had time to prepare myself! And I certainty didn't ask to be dumped in a swamp on my way here!" Hitomi cries, her short-lived confidence now shattered.

"It doesn't matter." As if in a trance, Van stripped himself of his armor and began toward her, his arms open wide. Upon reaching her, he knelt down, taking her hand and kissing it. "All that matters it that you're here."

Hitomi couldn't find words. She thought she might cry if she made the attempt. It was as if Van had matured into the King she always knew he could be, and she was falling in love with him all over again.

"I'm sure you want to get out of those clothes," Van continued. Beside the throne, Merle bristled. "Merle, perhaps you could help-"

"No problem! Of course, we'll have to pull down the curtains in the dining hall to make her a suitable dress."

Hitomi glared. Some parts of this world would never change.

ф

The Vione II loomed large and silent over Gaia. Over the balcony was a stunning view, but Dilandau Albatou remained beneath the overhang, pacing in the shadows. He wore a plain, loose-fitting linen pair of pants and draw-string muscle-shirt. His feet were bare. This is the outfit he was was given in which to sleep every other month when they put him in that chamber. He guessed he must be 17 or 18 by now, the final desired age for the Dragonslayer leader.

*Am I really that old?* Dilandau stretched his wrist out, examining his lily-white flesh. The blue veins pulsed just beneath the surface of his skin. As he watched, his pulse quickened. How he longed for the battle to begin. His cheeks and eyes were sunken from his long sleep, but his face flushed and his red eyes danced with the prospect of spilling more blood.

Because the age progression process was physically demanding, and not altogether considered safe (even by the sorcerers), he was given a month between each progression in which he received his military training. This had been going on for as long as he could remember, into his very early childhood years. Years, of course, was a very loaded term. He could remember the last twelve "years" of his life, all lived in the last two years of a normal person's. One month of aging in a hyperbolic chamber, one of training relentlessly as a soldier. His now 5'8'' frame may have been small, but his size was deceiving. The cut-out shirt displayed his tight and toned arm and shoulder muscles. He could kill anyone-man, woman, or child-in a matter of seconds. He had, in fact, been given several real-world assignments in the past few months to do so, and had excelled past every expectation. Of course, his training had given him the physical ability, but it was his psyche the true reason for his resurrection that gave him the will-nay-the urge. On several occasions, Dilandau even overheard talk that he was too effective. Well, that's how he interpreted the panicked voices insisting something be done to control the "tiny monster." And that is where Folken came in.

Folken. Dilandau sneered at the dark figure hunched over the railing, staring into the colorful patchwork with a stupid, dreamy look in his eyes.

"It certainly would be easy to push you to your death, Folken," Dilandau mused, his voice still scratchy from a month of disuse. "If someone were so inclined." Laughter bubbled up inside of him, surfacing in a high pitched cackle. God, it feels good to laugh again.

"Do you think I'd turn my back on anyone I considered a threat?" Folken answered calmly, not moving his gaze. Dilandau growled, twisting his cocky smirk into a grimace. "Come, Dilandau. Maybe the view will calm you."

"Hmph." Dilandau tossed back his hair with a flick of his head. Crossing his arms, he strutted over to the railing with his chin held high, one eyebrow cocked. He peered over the edge. He knew every fold of land, every colorful patch in that quilt of earth. He knew Gaia like an expert army general would know the territory he planned to invade. He should have been staring at maps, plotting the first major strike, the location of potential fortresses. Not staring as aimlessly as a farm animal over the balcony of the Vione II. Like that fool, Folken.

"The view does not calm me," Dilandau rasped. "It only makes me more anxious to set that patchwork ablaze. Like pitching a quilt into a furnace." Dilandau grinned, one corner of his mouth pulled high to reveal his fang-like teeth.

"I had hoped you would consider this life more of an opportunity, Dilandau," Folken sighed.

"I do. An opportunity for revenge. The principal task of this new life is to find who ended my last one."

"Don't you care what tasks the sorcerers have in store for you?"

"I have a strange feeling the two are connected."

"Like a memory?"

"A memory, Folken?" Dilandau laughed at his stupid suggestion. "Don't display your idiocy. I listen to every word spoken around me in this fucked-up experiment, and you sorcerers have great big mouths. I'm well aware my death was part of the battle Zaibach lost. I consider it a delicious opportunity to use whatever tasks are in store for me to find the bastards responsible and exact my revenge. I also realize that I am now at the final age progression desired, which means I may start recruiting the Dragonslayers at will."

"Of course." Folken straightened. "And in light of this milestone, I wanted to give you a token of leadership and esteem." He removed an object from his (shirt? Pocket? Bag? What's he wearing! Lol): a shining gold tiara, and in its center a glittering red gem. Dilandau took the tiara and stared hard, focusing on the stone. Like something from a dream, he was certain it held some clue to a memory. A memory which he knew could not exist. So why did this stone tug so forcefully at the back of his brain? His left eye twitched.

"Stop that, Dilandau, or you'll get another scar," Folken scolded.

Suddenly, Dilandau realized he was stroking his cheek feverishly with the heel of one hand. He stopped, staring at Folken with wide eyes.

With a scowl, Dilandau jammed the tiara on.

"It suits you well." Folken gave a small smile.

In truth, it was eerie to see Dilandau completely restored, even down to the gleaming gemstone in his gold tiara. Absently, Folken compared the differences in their regeneration. While Dilandau was an exact duplicate of his former self, except a few years older and scar-less Folken was the way he had been before he pledged allegiance to the Zaibach Empire, perhaps a few years older. Both of his arms were intact and toned, he lacked the tattoo mark of a sorcerer, and his hair was dark blue instead of the bleached short cut it had been. He wore the uniform of a sorcerer, but his clothing was really the only thing that tied him to his appearance from his former life as Strategos to Emperor Dornkirk.

"As if I need your praise. Just so you know, I'm not going to wear this stupid thing." Dilandau huffed and looked away, pretending to take interest in his nails.

"As you wish." Folken turned his gaze back to the scenery.

Dilandau let out an aggravated sigh and turned his attention to more pleasant, violent thoughts. He imagined the kinds of torture he would instill on his former murderer- or murderers! A group torture could be really satisfying; it lent itself to so many possibilities

After a few moments, Folken glanced at the daydreaming Dragon Slayer.

"I hope the new Dragon Slayer Unit will be led better than last time. When men pledge their loyalty to you, you have the responsibility of guiding them with care."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dilandau snarled.

"It means keep your men out of your tangled revenge scheme." Folken ordered.

Dilandau bared his fangs in mocking grin. "Are those orders from up top, or are you just trying to piss me off?"

Folken sighed and lifted his head, staring at the passing clouds.

"Listen, Dilandau. We've been granted a rare chance; resurrected from our past mistakes we can correct our errors and forge a new path for ourselves. We don't have to be driven by the same urges and goals as we once were. I can accept what I did was wrong, and that the ends cannot justify the means. I have no intention of repeating that sadness. Perhaps you should consider that, for all the sorcerers' powers and schemes, they don't own you. You don't have to let them control your destiny; you can make it your own."

"Am I hearing you correctly, Strategos," Dilandau smirked. "Are you advocating treason?"

"No." Folken looked squarely into the younger man's garnet eyes. "I'm not saying you should disobey orders. I'm saying you should try to let your past be your past, and take care of this life like the gift it is."

Dilandau had only a moment to consider Folken's words, when suddenly a blazing pillar of light opened up in the sky in the distance.

"What the-?!" Dilandau shouted, throwing himself against the railing. Folken turned, his eyes widening as they watched the light widen for only a few seconds before fading away. Before Dilandau spat the words, Folken was thinking the same thing.

"That was Fanelia!" Dilandau had heard the sorcerers mention the King of Fanelia on more than one occasion, and his keen intuition had picked up on Folken's silent and sullen demeanor change. Even now, Dilandau noticed that Folken was holding his breath. That sealed it. His first step was Fanelia. He spun, hurrying toward the docking bay.


	2. Chanel and the Deep Blue Something

"Where are you going?" Folken demanded.

"To retrieve Alseides." Dilandau couldn't help the grin spreading from ear to ear. He was free! No more testing, no more training, no more months slept away. The sorcerers had known what they were doing when they wound him up and let him go they were releasing an unstoppable terror on the world of Gaia. Dilandau knew that the lack of instruction was purposeful, even strategic. Unleashing him would create a level of chaos so great that Gaia wouldn't know what hit them, or who to hit back. Like a natural disaster, where was the blame to be placed?

*A natural disaster,* Dilandau mused to himself as he entered the docking bay. *As if there was one natural fucking thing about my existence.* He stared up at the gleaming red armor of Alseides. Desire swelled in his belly as he caressed the cold metal of the mecha giant. It felt warm and sensual to him, and he nearly swooned. He gripped the machine and began climbing, rubbing the length of his body against the machine on his way up. His muscles were still trembling with fatigue from his long sleep or was it anticipation? Folken ran into the docking bay.

"Stop, Dilandau!" he shouted. He knew full well that Dilandau flying off now would not only set back any hopes he had for Dilandau's leadership, but would also put Van in grave danger. *Van...* Folken thought to himself desperately.

"Dilandau, you aren't strong enough after your sleep!" Dilandau didn't hesitate. "I order you to halt at once!" Folken cried desperately.

"Heh!" Dilandau scoffed, opening the cockpit. "You have neither the power nor the authority to stop me, Folken. Don't you think there's a reason they didn't give you a weapon to use when I finally went off?"

Dammit. He never had this level of coherence the first time, Folken thought, watching helplessly as Dilandau climbed into the cockpit.

"You can come after me if you like, Folken, but remember this they fucked me up beyond all accountability. No one is safe, not even you, you cold, pathetic bastard!" Dilandau slammed the cockpit shut, and Folken could hear his high pitched cackling echoing through the machine as the engines started. He could only step out of the way.

It took only minutes for Alseides to hover just above the woods outside of Fanelia, but even then Folken's words proved true: Dilandau was still far too weak to be piloting.

"Dammit..." Dilandau cursed. The bloodlust throbbed in his veins, drumming in his temples. "I won't succumb to this! I've waited too long!" He bit his tongue to keep himself focused, tasting the blood in his mouth. Unfortunately, the taste overcame him. With a sleepy grin he fell forward into the glass of the cockpit, losing consciousness. At the same time, Alseides took a nose-dive into the woods, crashing through the trees and into the ground with a thunderous boom.

Ф

Nearby, Chanel Yagami was sitting outside of her makeshift tent, roasting a duck she had captured when she heard the crash. Not a particularly sympathetic character, but always up for some good old fashioned blood and guts, she put down her dinner and hurried toward the sound. As she ran, her waist-length auburn curls whipped behind her in a long ponytail.

"If my calculations are correct, it was an older, sturdier, military issued 'melef and it landed about-" she sucked her finger and stuck it in the air. "About 400 yards south of here!" She bolted for the location. As she got closer, she could follow the smoke pouring into the air. When she found the wreck, she could barely make out anything through the brush only that it was a cherry red guymelef. "If that pilot isn't dead already, he will be when I get to him," she laughed as she tore through the brush. "That mecha is mine!" Suddenly an arm shot out of the cockpit, and a hand wrapped around her throat. Using her neck for leverage, Dilandau pulled himself to the edge of Alseides open cockpit. A shock of red blood trailed from his mouth as he stared her hard in the face.

"Nobody touches my Alseides. You got that?" he growled.  
With both arms, Chanel attempted to pry the hand from her neck, but the fingers had a vice-like grip unnatural for any human. She nodded furiously, her ivory cheeks flooding purple. Instead of letting go, or even loosening his grip, Dilandau continued slowly.

"I would kill you now, but I've been injured in this crash. If you want to buy yourself a few more minutes of life, you'll take me to the nearby fortress. I will explain the way, and once I arrive I will kill you. Understand?"  
Chanel didn't like those terms, but she knew from his grip that he was no ordinary soldier who she could have easily bested. To buy a few more minutes was better than having her throat torn out now, which is what she was sure he planned to do as he tightened his grip. She nodded again, closing her eyes tight as her vision filled with stars.  
"Good." He tossed her aside. On the ground she gasped for air as he pulled himself into a sitting position in the cockpit, swinging his legs over the side. Grabbing her long ponytail, he wrapped it around his fist several times, wrenching her head back for her to look up at him.  
"My leg is broken," he stated calmly. Chanel, still on her knees gasping for air, turned her head toward his legs and came face to face with a nasty compound fracture. Despite her military training and experience with gruesome wartime situations, she cried out from the sight of his splintered bones pointing inches from her eyes. Blood soaked the linen pants he wore from the knee down, and dripped off of his *bare feet?* Chanel wondered, puzzled. She took a second look at the soldier. He couldn't be any older than she was, about seventeen. And what kind of uniform was that? A thin pair of linen pants and a loose fitting shirt? And what a strange complexion. And those vino colored eyes...  
"You're going to have to support me until we reach the fortress," he interrupted her thoughts. "Don't give me any lip, and I'll kill you quickly."  
"Is that my only option?" she asked. Before she could even finish the last word, Dilandau belted her across the face with his free hand.  
"See? You've already fucked it up. Now I'm going to have to trouble myself with a more creative death."  
Bitterly, Chanel stood and helped Dilandau stand. Still gripping her hair, he wrapped his arm around her neck for support. He leaned back into the cockpit, punching in a code. Alseides disappeared.

"Wow!" Chanel breathed. "A cloaking device! That's some serious shit!"  
"Yes, it is some serious shit." Suddenly he jumped on her back, piggy-back style.  
"Hey, what the-!" Chanel stumbled, then steadied herself by supporting his legs with her arms.  
"There we go. Now, head, hmmmm... that way." He pointed.  
"You don't sound so sure."  
"What do you care? Every minute you carry me around is another minute I don't kill you. Now yah, bitch, yah!" He squeezed her sides with his thighs, as one might use a horse. Chanel growled and started marching. A toothy grin of childlike excitement filled his face as if he was completely unaware of the fractured limb.

Long after the sun went down, Dilandau finally directed her to the fortress, built and hidden in the side of a mountain. Knowing he would be killing her soon, he wasn't shy about bragging. He made Chanel walk through all of the clever hidden doors and panels leading deep into the fortress. When they finally reached the door leading into the inner fortress, Dilandau hopped down and placed his hand on a stone. Chanel was shocked when the stone lit up and copied his hand-print onto its surface. A door slid open, and Dilandau, supporting himself on the wall, hopped inside.

*I could make a run for it now,* Chanel thought to herself. She hesitated, remembering the cloaking device, the cleverly hidden passageways, the unfathomable technology this strange soldier had access to. In all of her training as a spy, these things had never been made known to her. She couldn't stop herself from entering the fortress. The only light came from the doorway behind her. In the dim light, she could just make out the shadows of a staircase in the back of a large foyer, and corridors leading into darkness. The strange young soldier was nowhere to be seen. Before Chanel could react, the door slid shut behind her, and she was standing in the pitch black.

"I could kill you now," the young voice hissed, just next to her ear. Chanel gasped as a dagger pointed into her skin, directly above her kidney. "I could watch you bleed out all night."

Suddenly Chanel smashed her fist where she knew his face hovered, inches from her ear. Dilandau cried out, in pain and surprise. With the other hand she twisted and snatched his good leg out from under him. Hearing the knife clatter to the floor, she back-flipped over his body and pinned him to the ground by his arms, then collected the knife all in the pitch black darkness. Yet it seemed like she could make out two red pinpoints in the dark where his eyes burned up at her. A strange, high-pitched cackle echoed eerily through the room. It seemed like he was all around her. Even with all of her training, a cold chill made her shudder.

"I'm impressed," he laughed.

"Shut up." Chanel held the knife to his throat. "I know I only bested you because you've been bleeding out for hours making me traipse through this entire goddamned forest. You could have killed me and used a walking stick to get yourself here hours ago, but it's almost like you valued torturing me over your own life."

"You did threaten to take my Alseides," he mentioned casually.

"And I plan to do just that after I kill you." She took a matchbook from her pocket and a dim light filled the room as she struck the match. Suddenly Dilandau realized there was something about her he had missed before. Pinning him to the floor was a female. Not a civilian, not a soldier, not even a victim... A *girl*. Suddenly the feelings he reserved only for Alseides welled up in him and a deep red flush crossed his cheeks. When was the last time he had even seen a female? Thinking back, he realized that he could remember only one in his entire, short second life: the soldier Akuma. He was ashamed to admit that he had admired her on several different levels, but definitely, *definitely*, not this one.

"Hey, what are you looking at?!" Chanel shouted.

"Those," he said matter-of-factly, pointing at her chest. Chanel was completely taken aback by his abruptness. However, she also realized that her assets had disarmed him temporarily.

"Ha!" She scoffed. "Under all that crazy, you're just like any other guy!"

Appalled, Dilandau becomes distracted momentarily. "I am not just like any other 'guy'! I am Dilandau Albatou! Dragon Slayer leader and expert general of Zaibach."

As soon as he stated his name, Chanel's face fell. "That- that's impossible. He's... he's dead."

"WAS dead. You idiot civilians have no idea-" He stopped suddenly, mid-word, as she slipped her shirt over her head. His mouth hung open. Chanel wiggled her way down his legs, which Dilandau found very, very interesting. He leaned up on his elbows and watched as she slid his pants leg over the broken bones.

"This is gonna sting," she warned.

"Try me."

Only Chanel winced at the sickening crack when she snapped his bones into place. A short moan escaped Dilandau's throat, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the feeling. He suddenly wished he had broken every damn bone in his body.

"I'm not a doctor, but they taught us a little first aid in my training."

"Uh-huh," Dilandau's head was tilted back in ecstasy.

"See, when the war first started, my whole family was killed." She chatters as she cleans the wound. "As I was fleeing my home during a battle, this huge white 'melef raised its foot and was about to come crashing down on top of me. I knew I was dead, but then this fantastic beauty of a red 'melef shoved it out of the way, where it, I dunno, tumbled into a church or something instead." She wrapped her shirt around his leg. He watched her breasts bounce in her bra as she leaned over him to attend to his wounds. Why did he feel so strange? So warm? As if his bloodlust had reached it's boiling point and he might-

"Then this long, thick blast of fire exploded from it's middle," Chanel continued dreamily. "I watched the flames roll out of that magnificent machine like waves of an orgasm."

Dilandau didn't understand some of the words she was using, but he certainly enjoyed hearing her say them, and the way her chest flushed and rose up and down with her quickening breath as she talked about fire. His fire.

"Anyway, I swore my allegiance to the pilot of that magnificent machine, who I discovered to be-" She stared longingly at Dilandau. "Dilandau Albatou. If you were truly that man I'd follow you until the day I died, or until you killed me. Whichever came first." Placing the blade in his hand, she held it against her chest, just over her heart. "Let me imagine that you really are him. Take me, Dilandau-sama."

Dilandau swallowed hard, the sweat beading on his forehead. Suddenly the warmth became a pain, but unlike the delicious pain when she jerked his bone back into place with rough, inexperienced but eager hands. This pain was an ache. An uncomfortable, unfamiliar ache he didn't quite know how to cure. Looking up at her chest, the cold blade pressed against her hot flesh, for the first time that he could remember he had suddenly lost his desire to kill. And that disgusted him.

"Get out," he rasped.

"What?" she asked, taken aback.

"I said get the fuck out!" He pushed her roughly off of him and struggled to his feet. Something was happening to him. Something mixed with his bloodlust and a feeling that there were parts of his education that had been deemed unnecessary and left out. For example, that women had certain weapons that a man cannot begin to defend himself against.

"It really is you, isn't it!?" Chanel marveled. "Then let me be a Dragon Slayer! I trained as a spy at school until they found out I was a chick when my enormous boobs came in." She held them up with her palms, squeezing them together. Dilandau groaned painfully, pulling himself into a chair and covering his face with his hands. Her voice made him ill. He might have attributed it to the bloodloss, except he was accustomed to the pains of combat. This ache was in a strange, uncomfortable region of his body that he knew he'd never used on the battlefield or anywhere else for that matter.

"And I've been self-taught ever since!" she continued, obliviously. "You won't find a more covert agent!"

"I said get out!" He wished his voice was stronger, but he almost squeaked. "I won't even hear of taking on a female Slayer, and the very sight and sound of you is making me sick!" His head swam as he tried to wrap his mind around this new, quite unpleasant pain. All he knew is that she was the direct cause.

Chanel gritted her teeth. "Fine. I'll leave, but this isn't the last you'll hear from me, Dilandau Albatou! I'll prove my worth to you if it's the last thing I do!" And with that she stormed out into the night.

Ф

Folken watched the girl storm out from his perch on the guymelef catwalk. Neither of the pair had noticed him when they entered; and he had watched the scene play out before him with mild interest.

The former Dilandau would've plunged that dagger into the girl's well endowed chest without batting an eye; but it seems this Dilandau was at least affected by the thought of the opposite sex. That in itself was interesting; but the girl's desire to serve as a Dragon Slayer and her proclaimed experience was more intriguing to him at the moment. he made a mental note to pursue that later; and cleared his throat, loudly.

Dilandau's head whipped back, he glanced up to the catwalk, and their eyes locked.

"Folken!" Dilandau shouted, angered by the fact that someone had gotten the jump on him-especially that gloomy bastard.

"That was quite a display," Folken mused, pulling a large torch from the wall and lighting it. As he descended the staircase, Dilandau suddenly became very self-conscious. He crossed his legs.

"Are you alright?" Folken asked as Dilandau bounced the broken limb, still covered in gore, over his knee nervously. He seemed to feel no discomfort whatsoever, but Folken knew he was simply enjoying the stabs of pain that shot through his body with every bounce.

"Hm? Oh, fine," Dilandau answered, hurriedly. He examined his nails. "Few dents and dings. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, you know. I don't need you looming over me like some goddamned babysitter."

"Really? Because we've found Alseides wrecked a few miles into the woods, and from what I saw, it wasn't you who bandaged that leg."

Dilandau darkened, glaring up at Folken. "What's your point, Folken?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"My point is that you turned away a potentially valuable asset to your team."

"Bah!" Dilandau stood, limping on his busted leg. Folken attempted to help him, but Dilandau waved him away angrily. "Let me ask you something, Folken. In the infinite wisdom you sorcerers seem to imagine that you possess, how was it that no one warned me of the female factor?"

"I don't understand."

"I was ready to slaughter that bitch! And then-" Dilandau blushed, stopping mid sentence. He slowly lowered himself into his seat again, staring forward blankly.

"Ah, I see." Folken sat on the arm of the large chair and ruffled Dilandau's hair. Still staring blankly forward, Dilandau seemed not to notice. "You had urges, didn't you?"

"I always have urges," Dilandau spat, pushing away Folken's hand and combing his hands through his silver hair. "Urges to maim. To murder. To cause pain, to both myself and others. That's who I am. But this was something else." Dilandau grimaced, biting his lip worriedly.

"I suppose we sorcerers overlooked what might have been obvious in a normally aged child." Folken readjusted to lean closer to Dilandau, to teach him something every man should know from a much younger age. "There comes a time in a young person's life when these urges start to take over. A time that you unfortunately spent sleeping in a hyperbolic chamber. It's nature."

"So there is something natural about me after all...?" Dilandau mumbled to himself, staring into the shadows thoughtfully. If it was any other character, one might describe his look as...vulnerable. The expression seemed so foreign across Dilandau's countenance, almost as if he were a completely different person. Folken looked down at the young man, a small flame of hope sparking inside of him. Perhaps this time *would* be different. Perhaps this was the inspiration Dilandau needed to understand Folken's rhetoric about new life, new chances to do things right, to be humane.

Suddenly Dilandau's face twisted into a snarl. "What a disgusting weakness."


	3. Topaz and Ruby

Folken pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off a Dilandau-inspired headache as he stepped into his dimly lit chamber. Keeping his room dim was a habit he couldn't seem to break from.

"Trouble in paradise?" a smooth feminine voice echoed from his bed.  
He stared at the figure perched on the edge of his bed, her pale skin and hair luminous in the semi-dark of his room. Her eyes, the same hue as the clear sky, pierced through him and he found it difficult to look directly into them.

"Akuma." He breathed, noticing that the dim light reflected off the black of the Zaibach Elite Soldier uniform she was wearing. It struck him as odd that she would be wearing it after going rouge from the Empire.

Noticing his eyebrow raise at her attire, she shrugged. "Force of habit; like your desire to live in a cave."

She stood and went to the window of his room, throwing it open to flood the room with light and fresh air. He took the opportunity to admire her fully in the afternoon light. She had strong features with a few hints of feline heritage, like the dark brown coloring on the top of her elongated earlobes, and the dark-brown tipped tail hidden by her uniform's skirt piece. She had very feminine curves, and stood tall against the window, her white hair absorbing some of the blue in the sky. She turned from admiring the scenery to look at him, bangs caught by the breeze to reveal the small red dots above her eyebrows.

He stepped towards the window to join her. "Dilandau has completed the age progression process."

She nodded. "I had assumed as much. I don't feel his presence here; so I assume there was an argument?"

He nodded. "After I gave him your gift. There was a pillar of light in the direction of Fanelia, and he ignored my orders to remain here. It didn't take long for him to crash Alseides. I have soldiers scouting for him."

Her eyes lowered from his face and she looked back out the window. As glad as he was to see her, and struggling to conceal it; Folken was concerned about her visit. The entire Zaibach Empire was on the alert to find her; though only a few, including himself, knew why. That meant it was something important for her to risk seeing him, and he had a creeping feeling it had to do with that familiar light phenomenon.

"Why are you here?" he prompted gently.

Her blue eyes met his ruby ones. "I've summoned the girl from the Mystic Moon."

He couldn't help but balk; and she continued, turning from the window. "I had enough time to find what I was looking for before I had to flee the Capital. I've struggled to derail the new council at every turn, but it seems we may have to rely on the power of the white dragon once again."

Folken shut his eyes and let out a low chuckle. So much for avoiding past mistakes.

As if she had read his mind, Akuma sighed. "Yes, I know; but if the Council running Zaibach intends to repeat their errors, then the actions to stop them must also be repeated. I have no intention of letting them do whatever they please and plunge Gaea into another war or worse."

"Tell me." He took a step towards her, "Tell me, Akuma, what are the sorcerers scheming? What do they intend for us?"

A loud knock on his chamber door echoed, and with a small amount of aggravation turned to cue the soldier to speak.  
"Folken-sama," the muffled reply came, "We've located Alsiedes, it's in the woods a few miles west, in stealth mode. We believe Dilandau-sama has retreated to the Fugyu station."

"Very well." Folken called through the door. "Have the guymelef retrieved, and I will fetch Dilandau myself."

The soldier replied with an affirmation and Folken could hear the boot steps echoing away from his chamber door. With a sigh, he turned to continue his discussion with Akuma, but found his chamber empty. He gave a small smile when noticed a small white feather lying on the floor below his open window.

Ф

Merle led Hitomi to a simple guest room. While a bath was being poured, Merle was rummaging through a stack of clothes to find something that would be suitable to wear.

Hitomi gave a small cough and attempted small talk. "This is a nice room. It looks like the restoration work is top-notch, and I like the decorations."

Merle bristled and turned from the pile of dresses to hiss at her. "Well, Van-sama designed it for you!"

Hitomi shuffled a step away from the young cat woman. "Ah, I didn't know Sorry."

Grumbling, Merle stepped over and yanked down Hitomi's muddy sweatpants.

"EEEAH! What are you doing?!" Hitomi pulled the hoodie down to cover her panties.

"Get in the tub!" Merle growled. "Even now, you're so damned stupid!" She shoved her into the tiled area that held a large tub filled with steaming water and quickly stripped her before shoving Hitomi into it.

"Are you trying to drown me?!" Hitomi popped out of the water yelling.

"Just hurry up, you fat idiot!" Merle grumbled, walking out of the bath area.

Offended, Hitomi grabbed a bath bar and started scrubbing herself. She couldn't understand what had pissed the girl off so much; all she'd said was the room was nice! Hitomi started scrubbing her hair with the soap bar. Maybe Merle just wasn't happy to see her; after all, it was evident the girl still clung to Van like a leech  
The bath was concluded with some lavender-scented bath lotion and conditioner. She wrapped herself up in a fluffy towel that had been left by the tub and went back into the main part of the guest room where Merle was twitching impatiently. Wordlessly, she pointed to a dress and undergarments laid out on the bed. Hitomi ran her hand over the soft crème-colored dress accented by a red design along the top hem. Next to it was a piece of striped cloth that reminded her of an obi. She picked up the items and went behind the changing screen to dress.

"I'll help you with the sash, so don't take all day putting the dress on." Merle huffed from the other side.

"Thank you, Merle." Hitomi called, which resulted in more grumbling. Yep, Merle hadn't changed at all.

She stepped out from behind the screen and Merle snatch up the sash and wrapped it around Hitomi's torso, tying an elaborate knot. She then pushed Hitomi down into a chair in front of a mirror and set about working on Hitomi's brown mass of hair. At the end of it, despite all Merle's grumbling and complaining Hitomi was pleasantly surprised by her reflection.

Merle's face softened in the mirror. "You should be beautiful for Van-sama." Merle sighed. "Since he only has eyes for you."

Before she could respond, Merle had moved away towards the door. "Well, hurry up all ready. At this rate Van-sama'll think I drowned you!"

Hitomi smiled and followed Merle back out to the throne room. She was sure it wouldn't take long for Merle to calm down. Right now she was just freshly jealous of the situation. Hitomi couldn't blame her; it was unfair to love someone who loved someone else. At the same time, she couldn't squelch her own feelings about Van. Now that she wasn't a muddy mess, she felt a lot more confident about seeing him.  
When they entered the throne room it was mostly empty, except for a few spare advisors standing around talking to the king. When Van caught sight of her, however, they were immediately dismissed, and merle snuck out of the room with them.

Van took a few strides toward her, and Hitomi realized just how tall he'd gotten. It really was amazing how much he'd changed in just a few years, and how regal he seemed. She looked up into his warm brown eyes and felt the tears well up in hers.

"Van!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms.

"Hitomi," he sighed into her hair. "I knew you'd return one day."

"Van," she smiled, wiping away her tears. "You've changed a lot. You really look like a King."

He smiled gently and ran his fingers through her hair. "You let your hair grow out; I like it."  
He tugged on her hair gently, bringing their faces together into a soft kiss that quickly deepened into a passionate expression of each other's longing for the other.

Van covered her face in smaller feathery kisses. "Hitomi " he pulled away and reached into his tunic, pulling out a familiar red pendant on a gold chain. " I think I should return this to you."

He slipped the chain over her head and kissed her again as the pendant dropped to its familiar place against her chest. She lost herself in the moment, letting the fact that returning to Gaea meant she was called for a purpose; and just enjoyed being in the arms of the boy she had fallen in love with who had become a man in her absence. By the look in his eyes, Van shared the sentiment. He briefly broke it to tell her he had sent out some invitations to old acquaintances, so she might see some familiar faces in a day or two; but until then, they had time to catch up.


	4. Gold & Lilac

Deep in the Asturian countryside outside of Palas sat a large old plantation house. On its front porch sat a young blonde woman in a chair reading a leather-bound book. In the waning afternoon light her periwinkle eyes seemed lilac and a small smile graced her lips as she turned the page of the book she was reading. Moments later, a noise caught her attention and she glanced up to see a horse and rider heading towards the house at full gallop.  
  
Her face drew into a concerned frown as she yelled into the house, "Brother! Brother, come quick- there's a rider!"  
  
A blonde man about ten years her senior rushed to the door, sheathed sword in hand. Together they watched the rider crest into better view.  
  
"Allen, It's Gaddes!" the girl exclaimed, setting down her book.  
  
Allen set down his sword, smiling. "So it is, Celena. So it is."  
  
Excitedly, Celena rushed up to the rider as he dismounted. He was a few years older than Allen with short dark hair and a five o'clock shadow roughening his handsome face which wrinkled into a lopsided grin as he reached his arms out to embrace the young woman.  
  
"Man, you're a sight for sore eyes!" he laughed, twirling her around.  
  
Allen smiled. "Been a while Gaddes. Are you here for a visit, or-"  
  
"I'm afraid the latter, boss." Gaddes set Celena down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, causing her to blush. He turned his attention to Allen. "We were patrolling on the Asturian border earlier today and an anomaly was spotted from the direction of Fanelia."  
  
Allen's smile fell. "What kind of anomaly?"  
  
"A large pillar of light."   
  
Without a word, Allen turned and entered the house. Celena looked up at Gaddes curiously.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
Gaddes grinned at her. "At best, we're going to Palas."  
  
She knew how to see past his wolfish smiles. "And at worst?"  
  
He looked into her eyes and said seriously, "Let's just hope it's the `at best' option, love."

 

Millerna, crown princess of Asturia, struggled to remain expressionless as her violet eyes locked onto the lithe figure marching down the length of the throne room to where she and her sister sat as temporary rulers of their country. King Aston had fallen ill after Millerna's infamous  
"kidnapping" during the war three years prior; and her older sister Eries had assumed his duties as acting monarch. Asturia was king-less until Millerna married, as her father had never fully regained  
his health. She gave a small sigh as the tall and graceful blonde man knelt at the base of the settee.  
  
"Allen Schezar." Her sister stood, acknowledging him. "I understand there is some urgent news you wish to relay?"  
  
Millerna's heart skipped a beat when he glanced up. Those sapphire eyes of his still set her blood ablaze, even if their relationship had fizzled. It had started out so wonderfully, detached from Dryden she could freely pursue the man she had always loved, and he returned her affections generously. However, his devotion and loyalty to his sister tore their budding romance apart. While Millerna wasn't foolish enough to bear ill will to Celena, in fact she regarded her like a sister; she couldn't help but bitterly think Allen used it as an excuse to move outside Palas and leave her.  
  
She'd done her best to keep their romance alive, often spending weekends travelling to the country to spend a weekend in her lover's arms, and Allen always bed her when he was in town; but after  
several months she realized all they ever did was have sex. They didn't even write to each other anymore, hell they hadn't even seen each other in months; and Millerna felt lonelier now than she ever  
had before. At this rate, it was better just to be done with it and free herself to love someone else than be nothing more to Allen than a warm body in his bed when he felt like it.  
  
She was so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn't paid attention to Allen's report until he shocked her by calling her name.  
  
"Hmm, what?" she blinked, glancing from the kneeling ex-knight to her sister.  
  
"Allen asked your opinion, Millerna." Eries stated patiently.  
  
"I-I'm all for it." She coughed gently.  
  
"As am I," Eries nodded. Allen please feel free to spend the night here and I will discuss your proposal to our father in the morning. If he agrees to reinstate your knight status, we'll expect to see the Crusade in Fanelia by sunset tomorrow."  
  
`Fanelia?' Millerna glanced at Allen questioningly. She shouldn't have been so busy daydreaming! She'd missed something important. She silently cursed as Allen left the room.  
  
"I thought you'd be eager to prepare a guest room for Celena." Eries commented.  
  
"Uh-"  
  
"I knew it; you were spacing out the whole time and didn't hear a thing." Eries sighed, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Care to fill me in?" Millerna shrugged helplessly.  
  
"I thought you'd be on the edge of your seat when he started talking about the pillar of light-"  
  
"Oh my God!"Millerna shouted in an un-ladylike manner and jumped from her seat. "We must set out for Fanelia at once! Someone pack my traveling clothes and medical bag! I need a carriage right away--"  
  
Eries grabbed the collar of her dress and pulled her back into her seat. "If you'll let me finish!" she growled. "Allen has proposed using Crusade to scout out the area and then investigate the  
air space boring Zaibach for suspicious activity."  
  
She held up a sealed envelope. "Coincidently, a letter from Fanelia arrived by courier an hour ago. It's for you."  
  
Millerna snatched up the envelope and ripped it open. After skimming the letter, she glanced over it again. She bolted from her chair towards the guest quarters, shouting orders.  
  
Eries watched her sister rush out of the room with an exasperated expression. Millerna was always so impulsive; it would be a wonder if she ever learned enough patience to be queen.  
  
\-----------------------  
  
Millerna had waited excitedly until Celena and Gaddes arrived; and practically pulled the young woman's arms off as she pulled her into the castles' smaller of two dining rooms. Millerna had ordered a rich dinner of pheasant, vino, and exotic fruit from Basram. She chattered away with Celena until Gaddes returned with Allen in tow.  
  
"Found him at the Crusade down in the bay." Gaddes laughed, and then smiled at Celena. "Sorry I took so long."  
  
Millerna's gaze shifted from Gaddes to Celena, back to Gaddes; and then she glanced questionably at Allen as he took his seat next to her.  
  
"I don't wish to discuss it." Allen whispered.  
  
With a shrug, Millerna continued filling Celena in on the latest fashions, as she had been before the men entered the room. She took a long swig of vino and decided the time for light discussion was over.  
  
"Allen, I received an invitation from Fanelia today. Can you guess what it was about?"  
  
Allen's expression tightened. "What?"  
  
Millerna faked a pout. "You're not even going to guess? That's no fun, Allen."  
  
"Just tell me." He sighed.  
  
She took pity on the worn look of his face. His nerves were coiled so tight all her flirting did was annoy him.  
  
She pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it to him read as she explained its contents to her other guests.  
  
"A girl from the Mystic Moon has landed in Fanelia!"  
  
"What?!" Celena nearly choked on her vino.  
  
Gaddes stared at Millerna in alarm. " Pr-princ-"  
  
"From the Mystic Moon?! Is that even possible?!!!!"  
  
Allen set the letter down softly. "Her name is Hitomi."  
  
"And we're really good friends!" Millerna smiled, propping up her face with her hands.  
  
Celena's eyes became as big as saucers. "Y- You mean you've met her?!"  
  
"Three years ago." Allen murmured. "The same light that was spotted in Fanelia this morning brought her there three years ago."  
  
Celena's face seemed to drop. "Brother… is something wrong?"  
  
Allen forced a smile. "I'm sure you'll like her Celena, she's an extraordinary woman."  
  
Millerna felt an old pang of jealousy, and almost regretted taunting Allen with the letter. He excused himself from the table, and she hurriedly apologized to the other guests before following him out onto  
the balcony.  
  
"Allen, Allen wait!" she huffed, trying to catch up to him in her billowy skirt. He spun around as he reached the cobblestone of the balcony.  
  
"How could you bring that up in front of her, Millerna?" he all but snarled.  
  
"She's going to found out things sooner or later! Besides, I don't see the harm of telling her!"  
  
Allen spun on his heel and stomped to the railing. She glared daggers into his back for a few moments before letting out a calming sigh.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry. I just thought you'd want to know; especially because Celena told me how worried you were about the phenomenon."  
  
She sauntered up to the railing to stand next to him, and gazed up at Gaea's moons.  
  
"There's something I need to tell you Allen. It's very difficult to say... but I can't continue on like this any longer. I can't do this anymore."  
  
He stared at her for a moment before realization dawned and he mouthed a silent "oh" before turning away from her.  
  
"It's probably for the best, then." He murmured, heading back inside.  
  
That was it? Three long years and that was the end of it- he hadn't even argued or attempted to apologize. After all the lies, and betrayal, and passion…. He had just accept the end and walked away from her. She stood watching the darkened doorway long after his form had disappeared, moonlight splaying across her shoulders and reflecting in the cold tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
\--------------  
  
Sunlight streamed across the pale pink comforter wrapped around Celena. She snored lightly under it, dreaming of heaven knows what.  
  
With a flourished movement, Millerna pulled the comforter off her sleeping guest, resulting in Celena waking with a shriek.  
  
"P-princess Millerna!" Celena cried, clutching her shoulders with her hands in a meek attempt to cover her chemise.  
  
"Time to get up, sleep-nose!" Millerna laughed. "The carriage'll be ready in about an hour!"  
  
Celena's terrified face melted into excitement. "And Gaddes and my brother??"  
  
Millerna found it difficult to keep her smile in place. "They'll meet us in Fanelia. Allan has been given a mission, so you're in my care until they're done-- but I promise to tell you all about the weird alien girl!"  
  
Celena scrambled out of the bed and nearly tripped getting to the bath chamber.  
  
"I'll see you downstairs for breakfast!" Millerna called, ushering in two handmaidens to assist her guest.  
  
As Millerna made her way to the dining room, she nearly bumped into an armored Gaddes.  
  
"Oh! Sorry princess!" Gaddes fumbled, "I was just going to say farewell to Celena-"  
  
Millerna noticed a small box in his left hand. "What's that?"  
  
She could've sworn the man's face turned violet before he stammered a response. "J-Just a present, something small, really small, I just thought-- incase we're gone a while--"  
  
Millerna couldn't help but giggle. "I'm sure she'll like whatever it is, Gaddes. Don't be so nervous!"  
  
The man practically climbed the wall to get around Millerna, embarrassment etched in every inch of his face. "yes, well- um, good day princess!' he scampered off and skid around the corner towards Celena's room.  
  
Millerna shook her head after him, and then continued on to the dining room. The absence of a certain blonde man was evident when she arrived, but she was certain he was all ready on his airship and Gaddes was going to offer an apology for that as well as his gift to Celena. Millerna sniffed delicately, Allen really could be a jerk sometimes.  
  
The sound of hopping footsteps caught her attention and she turned to see a flushed Celena in an evergreen dress skip into the dining room.  
  
"Isn't it a beautiful morning Princess Millerna!" she exclaimed, plopping down in a chair and digging into the fruit and bread laid out on the table for breakfast. A flash of silver around Celena's neck caught Millerna's eye as she sat down across from the gleeful girl.  
  
"What's that?" she smiled coyly, pointing at the new piece of jewelry.  
  
Celena stopped mid-chew and glanced down at the pendant resting above the hemline of the corseted top of her dress. It was an intricately made silver pendant crafted into upturned angel wings and ornate filigree cradling a tear-shaped cabochon stone the color of dark wine, a deep plum that stood out against the pale silver and Celena's complexion.  
  
Blushing furiously, Celena murmured. "A present from Gaddes."  
  
"How sweet!" Millerna cooed, taking a bite of her own fruit and watching Celena swoon and fawn over the token. Who'd have thought that rouge would have some knack at picking out gifts!  
  
Breakfast ended quickly and Celena rushed Millerna to the carriage, eager to hear all about the Mystic Moon girl and all the exciting tales of the adventures they'd had during the war. Millerna laughed as  
Celena bounced into the carriage. "Hey, just how old are you; that's not very lady like!"  
  
Celena smiled apologetically. "But I'm so excited!"  
  
Millerna smiled, the energy was contagious. She glanced up to give the driver directions and paused when she didn't recognize the man.  
  
"Forgive me," she tilted her head, regarding him with some scrutiny. "But I don't recognize you sir, are you a new driver?"  
  
He tilted his hat to her. "No, milady; I'm a driver for the palace, but I've never had the honor of escorting you or your sister. Your regular driver Felipe has taken ill today. My name is Ralph  
Estanz."  
  
"Oh," Millerna smiled up at him. "It's very nice to meet you then, Sir Ralph. Please carry the carriage swiftly, but softly for us. I hope to be at Fanelia's castle by late afternoon."  
  
"Yes ma'am." He nodded.  
  
Millerna climbed into the cab and as it started moving with a jolt, turned her attention to Celena and smiled.  
  
"Now remember, what I'm about to tell you is top secret!"


	5. A Few New Bodies

Much to the relief of the sorcerers, Folken returned with Dilandau to the Vione II. Alseides was towed just behind them, in several pieces. No one dared scold Dilandau, but the mechanics who had just completed the restoration of the beautiful and complex guymelef fumed behind closed doors. Like the spoiled child of a wealthy family, Dilandau only cared that the repairs be done before the the next day. 

"And paint huge flames across the arms and legs, like I'm on flying so fast I'm on fire," Dilandau instructed, waving his arms dramatically to illustrate the magnitude of the order. Behind him, Folken made a cutting motion across his throat with his hand. 

"Whatever you say, sir," the mechanics answered, trying to repress their laughter. Was this kid serious? 

"Dilandau," Folken pulled him aside. "The new recruits are here to start your team--"

"Recruits?" Dilandau scoffed. "It's up to me whether or not they're recruits." 

Folken lined up the prospective Dragonslayers, already outfitted with their uniforms. Walking down the line, Dilandau belted each one in the face. As Folken had instructed, each recruit stood firm without wincing, and bounced back from the blow with a confident, "Sir!" At the end of the line, was a tall, blue-haired gentleman with large aqua eyes. With each blow down the line, he had become more and more apprehensive. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow. Dilandau stood in front of the young man, hand outstretched. Just as he raised his arm to strike, the bluenette yelped and held his arms in defense. Dilandau's eyes widened indignantly, but he said nothing. Instead, he reached into his belt, retrieved his curved dagger and buried it to the hilt in the man's gut. The man coughed once, and fell to his knees. "Sir..." he choked, gripping his gaping abdomen. Dilandau bent and jerked the blade from his gut, and the man fell over on his side.

"If he recovers enough to join us for training within the hour, I'll accept himfor now. As for the rest of this pathetic heap of rejects, your training starts immediately. NOW MOVE!" He pointed with the bloody knife in the direction of the training area of the Vione II, where he had spent every waking moment of his life for as long as he could remember. With his fractured leg, he kicked the injured man over on his back. 

"What's your name?" he demanded.

"Kojiro, sir," the man whimpered.

"Well, Kojiro, don't just lie there waiting for me to finish the job! I missed your major organs by two inches at least. Now go get me a bottle of Vino, before I perforate you, you sorry sack of shit!" 

As Kojiro struggled to his feet, Dilandau held the dripping blade close to his face. He had purposefully used Kojiro to illustrate a point: display one sign of weakness and he wouldn't hesitate to fuck you up. He sighed longingly as the blood dripped down his elbow. Not a single female had dared show up as a prospect, yet two of the most impressive examples of stoic fearlessness he'd even known had been women: Akuma, the beast woman, and that spy he'd encountered hours before. His belly felt heavy at the thought of her and he twitched. 

*I'm probably just hungry,* he thought to himself, licking the blade like a lollipop as he limped toward the training area. 

 

Dilandau ripped into a piece of venison with fervor, letting his mind pleasantly wander. The new recruits had made him nostalgic for the days of his training, and he relished those bloody memories. In particular, the time Akuma had best him at a knife fight. It was the first time he had to begrudgingly acknowledge a drop of respect for the beast-bitch.

He was always forced to wait a few days after each age progression, days which nearly drove him mad with boredom until the sorcerers approved him for training. Over a span of time he had many military tutors teach him everything from strategy to assassination, but by far- Akuma was his favorite. She specialized in hand-to-hand combat, and there was never anything more satisfying than the bloody scrimmages face-to-face.  
He had tired quickly of swordplay, and Akuma had stopped the lesson immediately.

"Here" She tossed him a sheathed knife.  
His blood raced at the gleam of the curved blade as he drew it. A dagger was only a few inches long, and the proximity needed to bury the steel into flesh. He licked his lips expectantly. Something whizzed by his ear, and he glanced around, startled to find a dagger embedded in the wood post behind his head.

"What the fuck?!" he spat, glaring at his teacher.

"Knives are quite different from swordplay." She stated, picking her nails with another dagger. "To win a knife fight requires quick reflexes and adaptability. Mille-seconds can cost you your life."

Dilandau threw down the sheathed dagger and plucked the one from the post, tossing it from hand to hand to better acquaint himself with its weight and feel. He hadn't beat her in a single swordfight, but that was because her guard was nearly perfect. In a knife fight, where she had to get in close he cackled at the thought of making her bleed.

"Before we begin, I want you to keep in mind that if you win, I'll teach you an assassination technique that's not in the books."

Licking his lips, he crouched down, deciding the best approach as she continued to pick her nails. Even though he knew the first strike was a freebie, his bloodlust forced his pride to accept it. Satisfied with his plan of attack, he lunged to her right. He wasn't surprised when she blocked it, but he was surprised at the quick switch from defense to jabbing at his gut. He jumped back, and found himself on the defensive. With her speed, he had absolutely no time to anticipate or plan for her strikes. It really was different from sword fighting!

His blood rushed through his ears as his adrenaline kicked in. He struck out at her neck after blocking a stab to his thigh, which earned him a slice to the arm. They both jumped back from contact, and began circling each other slowly. The crimson trickle down his forearm incited more excitement than he'd had in weeks.

"The next part of the lesson is simple." Akuma stated. "In any combat situation, the weapon you wield is not all you have. Your body is always a weapon you can utilize. It's usually those who forget that that lose."

Dilandau nodded eager for the knife-play to resume. The more physical, the better. He had a lot of pent up energy, after all. He threw a couple of prompting jabs that she parlayed, and before he could react, she threw a left punch. He dodged it, forgetting about the knife in her right hand until it was inches from his shoulder. He twisted away and slashed at her, which she dodged and countered. It happened in a flash. He blocked her arm with his own, causing her to drop her knife and her exposing her abdomen as she swung a kick into his side. Right before he leg made contact, he thrust the dagger into her gut. Then, her kick contacted his rib cage, making him double over in pain.

He looked up, dazed, at the knife protruding from her lower abdomen. A grin splayed across his face as he watched red blood trickle from the wound. He had disarmed her and made her bleed in one deft moment! His grin widened as his eyes met her stoic expression. Before he could gloat over his victory, she hooked his left arm and tossed him over her shoulder. He landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and she quickly pounced on him, pinning his arms and legs with her body, yanking the dagger from her gut to hold the bloody blade to his throat.

"Now, can you tell me why you lost?" she asked softly.

He growled, fire sparking in his crimson eyes. "I let my guard down because I thought ramming a dagger into your bowels meant I had won."

She released him, standing. "Yes, that was quite impressive. You managed to miss my vital organs. You've been studying the anatomy I asked you to."  
She went over to where he had dropped the sheathed knife and picked it up.

"I'd say you've earned this." She handed him the knife.

He glanced from the offered dagger to where blood was pouring from her open wound. He had to admire her calm demeanor despite the gaping hole in her torso. He knew how deliciously painful the cut on his arm was, he couldn't imagine the lovely pain that gaping wound was inflicting on her. With a devious grin, he accepted the dagger, dreamily imagining how many more times he could slice someone open   
with it

Dilandau paused in his nostalgic reflections to draw out the curved blade from his boot that he had stabbed Kojiro with. It was a simple dagger with a twisted pewter hilt topped with a diamond-shape. There was nothing remarkable about the military-grade knife, except for its previous owner. Taking a swig of vino, Dilandau thought about how the pitiful bastard didn't deserve to be cut by such a dagger. He should've broken a glass bottle to use instead. 

Folken stood at the center of the communications room, staring down the image in screen before him. A man with bright green eyes and raven-hair stared grimly back at him. A diamond-shaped tattoo under his right eyes designated him as a sorcerer, all though he was a little younger than Folken.

"Valior-sama," Folken bowed his head. "It's an honor to hear from you."

Valior gave a dignified sniff; they both knew neither cared for the other. "Yes, well, the matter in your report demands some level of urgency. Other reports from our spy network have corroborated your sighting of the light pillar phenomenon in Fanelia. You can understand, of course, why this would alarm us."

"All though I'm not privileged to the details; I assume the reappearance of Escaflowne would hamper your plans."

"And the plans to restore the glory of Zaibach! Make no mistake, Folken, even in this time of peace we consider your home country as a viable threat."

Folken hoped the shadows of the room hid his scowl. He knew all too well the only threat Fanelia was to their "plans" had nothing to do with politics or the restoration of the empire. They just didn't want their sinister plotting to be compromised by the same forces that had conquered their desire for power last time.

"Rest assured, Valior-sama. I have operatives all ready on the move to intercept any information of what Fanelia may be scheming."

Valior narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Operatives? You have a functioning spy network all ready?"

"Yes sir." Folken lifted his head. "I have a spy in the royal palace in Asturia, and he's informed me that the royal carriage on its way to Fanelia has been intercepted by one of ours."

Valior seemed to consider this information before responding. "You're a very resourceful man, Folken."

"Thank you, Valior-sama."

"Keep me posted with what your spy reports; and how are things going with the candidates we sent to be considered with the Dragon Slayers?"

"Since they arrived yesterday-- one has been stabbed, two have defected, and the others are holding on by a thread."

"Not surprising." Valior mumbled.

"Also," Folken held up a sheet of paper, "Dilandau has filled out a budget request to have flames painted on Alsiedes, his reasoning being `It would just look bitch'n, I've got to have them'."

"No." Valior shook his head emphatically. "That'll be all, Folken."  
The screen went black.   
Dilandau pile-drived the last standing recruit into the cold stone floor of the training area in the Vione II. As the man crumbled into whimpers, Dilandau stared across the carpet of moaning, uniformed bodies. 

"This is fucking ridiculous," he mumbled to himself darkly. Here were his potential soldiers. Perhaps some of them had been training a lifetime, others simply hopefuls trying to find a way out of an unsatisfied existence in the layman's world. Yet not a single one had even gotten close enough to breathe on Dilandau, much less mark him.

"Perhaps we would do better with some food, and maybe some sleep. It's been almost 48 hours," one recruit begged. Dilandau bent over him, the dagger pressed under the man's chin.

"Sleep is for the weak," Dilandau hissed. He'd slept away half of his short life already, and now he was hungry for battle. He stared down at the man trembling against his blade and decided to spare this one for now, as two hopefuls had already gone missing. In truth he had tossed one over the balcony to soar to his death and the other--well, he was the reason the next had gone over the balcony. Dilandau knew Folken would expect an explanation for the shredded gore and blood splatter greasing the walls of the propeller engine room. He still felt splinters of bone in his flesh from the incident. *I thought for sure the suction would pull that mess out into open air,* Dilandau mentally scolded himself for forgetting his physics. God, he hated math. He stood upright and tucked the knife into his waistband. He still wore the linen pajamas. Changing would have been a waste; he needed the fear factor for this bunch of grunts, and peeling sticky strings of muscle from his flesh between bouts sharpened his already shining edge. His already wild eyes were encircled with dark bags, giving his a ghastly pall. When he displayed his fang-like teeth, even to display his amusement, the soldiers took a step back. He wouldn't be at all surprised if the majority of this group leaped to their deaths of their own accord before he was through torturing them. Dilandau considered torture a sport, and despite the scowl he wore he was enjoying the game immensely. He realized having 20 soldiers bum-rush him only to be systematically slaughtered wasn't the most effective training method, but he was having a hell of a time. 

"You came here expecting me to welcome you into my unit," Dilandau growled at the heap. He yanked one pants leg over his knee, revealing the battered limb still wrapped in a makeshift fabric bandage, crusted with dried blood. "You see this? I haven't stopped walking on this since the bone shattered and pierced my flesh two days ago." He pushed the limb inches from the face of a wincing solider. 

"Wow, did that hurt?" the soldier asked stupidly, extending a finger as if to poke the wound. Dilandau gripped the man's hand with one of his own, twisting until every finger bone snapped and the man shrieked in agony. 

"Does that answer your question?" he asked coldly, staring the man dead in the face. He turned toward the two men sitting at either side of the screaming man. "Toss him over," Dilandau ordered. One man immediately obeyed, while the other stood, but hesitated. He watched the injured man being dragged toward the balcony by his fellow soldier, kicking and screaming and gripping his mangled hand. He then looked back to Dilandau, as if unsure of his orders. The last thing the unsure soldier ever saw was the blade swinging toward his neck, and then his head was bouncing across the floor. Dilandau wiped the blade clean on his pants and polished it with his filthy shirt as the doomed man's screams echoed through the training room for only a second more before fading quickly over the side. 

"Do you think I enjoy killing?" he looked at the remaining soldiers--only three left.  
"Yes?" they answered in unison, nervously.  
"Well, you're correct. But I enjoy pain and torture much more." He held the now gleaming blade in front of his face. The soldiers held their breath.  
"I've disposed of the weaklings in this way to enforce a point. The Dragonslayers is not a team. You don't have friends. You have orders that are to be carried out at the expense of any and every body. You," he pointed at the bluenette who he had previously shanked. Kojiro stiffened. His torso wound had been dressed, but straightening reopened the wound anew. He twitched.

"Sir?"  
"Would you protect him from enemy fire, even if it added no risk to yourself?" Dilandau gestured to the man next to Kojiro.   
"Sir, no sir."  
"Good," Dilandau grinned. "Now, if I was trapped inside a burning building during a mission, how would you help me, your leader?" He had purposefully worded the question in an attempt to deceive Kojiro. His grip tightened around the hilt of the knife in anticipation.   
"I would complete my mission, sir," Kojiro answered, a little less than confident. He did feel, however, that he was getting the hang of his position. To be one of three left from a group of almost 20 had to say something, and he would in fact rather follow the others over the railing than return to his previous profession.   
"Good." Dilandau placed the knife back into his waistband slowly, never moving his eyes from Kojiro. The bluenette had a sweet demeanor, but he was running from something. Dilandau narrowed his eyes as he searched the thin, ragged faces of all three men. They all had their reasons for making it this far. He smirked, in spite of his disdain for the amateur clouts. It wasn't much of a team, but it was his team, and what they lacked in skill they made up for in desperation. That was close enough to passion, which Dilandau demanded from his soldiers on the killing field. Only one way to find out if these three could make that final cut.

"Suit up, boys." Dilandau grinned. "We're hunting dragon."


	6. A Classic Reunion

Two mornings after the pillar of light, Merle stood outside of the Van's bedroom, leaning against the wall with her eyes downcast in deep thought. She fingered the pendant around her neck, a gift from Van-sama when they were only children. She had worn it every day since. It wasn't so unlike Hitomi's, she thought to herself bitterly. Of course to look at the rest of her—spotted, furry with long ears and a bristled tail... Well, at least she knew Van-sama valued her as his closest confidant, valued her much more than society at large valued beast people. Walking through any city of Gaia, one would notice that beasts drove the carts while humans were riding. Beasts sold the goods while humans bought them. Beasts were loyal friends and sometimes lovers, but humans were husbands and wives, fathers and mothers... Hot tears sprang to Merle's eyes.   
  
"What's wrong, child?" a warm voice asked softly. The voice belonged to Shetalo, another beast—a zebra woman. She was the head of the household in Van's palace, and had come to retrieve the sheets for laundry.  
  
"Nothing, Sheta-mama," Merle sniffed. Through the cracked door, Shetalo could see Van and Hitomi embracing passionately in a tangle of sheets and the heavy down comforter. Even the canopy curtains were torn down on one side. Hitomi's voluptuous, bare body was barely covered by Van's tight embrace. Shetalo quietly closed the door and put her arms around Merle, who immediately started sobbing into her warm shoulder.   
  
"Why won't he love me, Mama?" Merle thought of Shetalo as a guardian, and shared with her all of the deepest, darkest fantasies—which usually centered around Van-sama.   
  
"There, there, darling." Shetalo walked Merle down toward the kitchen, through the servants corridors.   
  
"I know he doesn't mind the fur, and I tried to stop licking him in front of people since he was crowned--"  
  
"I know, darling, but yours is the plight of the lady beast, especially of the feline persuasion. Something about the cute, mewing, girlish figure..." Shetalo sighed. "You must try and finally move on. Find a handsome beast man, like Adams, for instance, and finally settle down into a home of your own. I'm sure Van-sama would furnish a heavy dowry for your wedding--"  
  
"A dowry, Mama?!" Merle asked in disgust. "As if he has to pawn me off on some horny solider to rid himself of me!"  
  
"Now, now, I didn't mean it that way."  
  
"A human man should consider himself lucky to have a beast woman of my standing as a bride! And not only that, but Van-sama is hardly what I would even call human in the first place!"  
  
"Merle!" Shetalo scolded.  
  
"It's true! He's practically half-monster! That's why they describe him as a dragon--"  
  
"Sheta!" The head cook called from the kitchen as they passed. "Sheta, is that Merle with you?"  
  
"Yes, Barnaby."  
  
"Tell her to get out of all that finery and put on her work clothes! We've just been informed that Van will be having company tonight from Asturia!"   
  
"Me! Help in the kitchen!" Merle bristled indignantly. She hadn't been forced into that drudgery since Van was crowned. Ever since then she'd been on his arm at every high event, wearing the finest gowns and jewels. No one treated her like a working beast. No one.   
  
"Don't act so high and mighty, sister. Everyone knows you've been replaced by that cow from the Mystic Moon." The kitchen erupted in laughter. Merle turned crimson, hot tears stinging her eyes. She couldn't bear it any longer. Breaking away from Shetalo, she retreated to her room and spent the rest of the day sobbing into her bed.

 

 

Chanel ripped her pants legs off from the knee, tying together a makeshift vest from the fabric. Since wasting her only shirt patching up that jerk, Dilandau Albatou, her breasts had been clothed only by her studded leather bra. She was well aware that her feminine wiles were some of her deadliest weapons, clearly illustrated by the fact that she had escaped from the little monster with her life. Chanel grinned dreamily, remembering his adorable demeanor change fondly. She was always able to bargain for favors simply by flashing a smile and a bit of cleavage, but Dilandau, the very leader of the notorious Dragonslayers she had dreamed about for three years, was cake. The pretty boy acted like he had never even seen a pair of breasts. She didn't want to walk through Fanelia gaining that kind of attention just yet, however, thus the need for the modest make-over with a vest. She had to perform this self-assigned mission exactly right, as this would undoubtedly allow her entry into the Dragonslayers.   
  
Walking through Fanelia's rural farmsteads, headed toward town, Chanel remembered the night Alseides had unwittingly saved her from Escaflowne's crushing blow. She wondered if Dilandau could ever understand the true reasoning behind her wish to find the pilot of that machine. It wasn't some romantic or heroic notion she'd stupidly ascribed to the memory. She realized that Escaflowne was the hero in that battle, and Alseides the aggressor. The senseless villain. But oh, those flames. How they had rolled and lapped against the velvet black of the night sky as thousands of civilians scrambled for safety, their screams roaring through the burning city. And above it all, that eerie cackle vibrating through the hot red metal of his 'melef. Just the thought was enough to make her--  
  
"You there, come!" a voice shouted from behind her, shocking her from her thoughts.  
*Stupid, stupid, stupid Chanel!* she scolded herself mentally. She'd been so distracted by the fantasy—er—memory, that she hadn't even realized a coach was trotting down the road just behind her. Those types of mistakes could get a spy killed; any idiot would know that.   
The coach itself was clearly royal. The driver was flagging her down, the horses trotting closer.   
*Why do those morons travel so conspicuously? What if I was some criminal? Oh, wait—* Chanel grinned sardonically.   
"Uh, yeah? What is it?"  
"My mistress is in dire need of a drink of water, and I've no one to watch the horses should I fetch it myself. I'd be happy to pay you for the task."  
"No problem." Taking a goblet from his outstretched hand, she peeks at the badge on his lapel.  
*Ah, Asturian royalty. The Princess Millerna, no doubt, on one of her pleasure trips.* Chanel deduced silently. "Be right back!" She filled the goblet in a nearby spring. Upon her return, Princess Millerna stood, fanning herself, outside the coach.   
"Ah. I can't thank you enough," she smiled sweetly. "What can I do for you in return?"   
"A ride into town would be nice," Chanel suggested.   
"Of course, if you don't mind squeezing in with us."  
"No way!" Chanel stepped up on the coach and swung in through the curtain excitedly, plopping down in the seat across from—the near twin of Dilandau Albatou.  
"Hello," the doppleganger smiled, bashfully. "I'm Celena Schezar." Chanel couldn't find the strength the offer a greeting of her own.   
"Pardon me," Millerna interrupted, squeezing her large gown into the coach. "Now, we'll be at the palace in no time."   
"The palace? Wow, you've got some pretty wealthy friends," Chanel laughed.   
"We're going to see a friend from another planet!" Celena exclaimed excitedly.  
"Celena!" Millerna scolded. "I'm sorry. She's—ah--a bit touched. We're going to see King Van of Fanelia."  
*Jackpot,* Chanel thought to herself. Here she was with a loose-lipped, childlike young woman and the close friend of Van de Fanel. This was the dream of any spy: access to locations and information. And that bit about the person from another planet....  
"I was actually hoping to speak to someone inside the palace walls about a job," Chanel lied. "I heard that Fanelia was exceptionally accepting of people from other lands."  
"True," Millerna stated, fluffing her hair. "But it's my understanding that King Van exclusively employees beast people in his palace. It's been a family tradition for some time. The beast children grow into the profession," she regaled. "He treats them very well, of course," she added nonchalantly.   
"Aw, man, I'd do anything for a job. See, my family was killed in the war a few years back, leaving me with loads of debt to pay. I got kicked out of my family shack, my dogs were sold to make fur-coats, and the coroner is holding my parents ashes because I refused to marry him!" *Sheesh, what a cornball story. Surely some part of that drivel will strike a chord here.*   
"Fur coats!" Celena gasped. She had an extreme soft spot for animals, especially dogs. "How awful! Millerna, maybe you could ask Van--"  
"Quiet, Celena!" Millerna hissed. Millerna tilted her nose in the air and peered sidelong at Chanel. "Since you are traveling with us, I suppose we could see if there is some opening available, perhaps even around town, that you could fill for King Van. If not, I'd be happy to have my coach escort you to the next town over."   
"Oh, thank you, Miss."  
"Princess." Millerna tossed her hair. "Princess Millerna."   
*Sucker,* Chanel grinned, as she rode right through the security gates into the palace gardens.

Celena quickly grew to like the fiery redhead who'd joined them on  
the outskirts of Asturia. The time seemed to fly by as she learned more  
about Chanel. The girl's plight had moved her; and she was  
determined to convince King Van to help her; after all Millerna had said  
Allen and Van had been comrades in the war, surely he wouldn't turn  
down her request?  
  
She cried out in excitement as the Capital City of Fanelia came into  
view after they passed a thick patch of wood. The city cascaded down  
into a valley between rocky-face mountains. She could barely make out  
the large structure of the castle carved into the mountain side from  
this distance.  
  
"Look!" she pointed, at seeing Millerna and Chanel's  
perplexed expressions.  
  
Millerna giggled delicately and Chanel glanced out the window, her  
expression turning mocking. "It's a city, haven't you seen  
one before?"  
  
Celena grinned widely as she pressed her face to the glass. "Never  
like that! Look, it's actually built into the mountain! That's  
amazing!"  
  
Millerna flipped her hair and stated in a matter-of-fact tone.  
"Well, of course. Fanelia's always been a small country, but  
they have built up their society around military tradition. They were  
quite disjointed, almost tribal, until Van's grandfather used  
Escaflowne."  
  
"Wow, you sure do know a lot about their country! Did you have to  
learn all that as part of your princess training?" Chanel gasped  
admiringly.  
  
With a blush Millerna averted her eyes, "Uh… no, I know someone  
who uh, prides himself in knowing everything about anything…"  
  
Celena glanced back from the scenery to pin Millerna with a soft gaze.  
Millerna was referring to her former betrothed. She didn't talk  
about him often, but somehow things he'd shared with her  
occasionally slipped into conversation; More so in the last few months.  
  
Celena changed the subject quickly, asking Millerna about Fanelia  
fashion. Neither woman noticed Chanel roll her eyes as the conversation  
grew increasingly `diva'.  
  
\---------  
  
The carriage pulled up beside where the Crusade was docked on a small  
platform outside the fortress walls of the castle. The carriage-driver  
assisted the ladies out of the carriage, and a large boar-man took up  
their luggage. Celena was amazed that he could carry it all in one go.  
She glanced over to see Chanel staring at the boar-man with the same  
amazement, and they both laughed about it.  
  
"Celena!" she heard the familiar voice of her brother and she  
turned to greet him with open arms. He scooped her up, squeezing her  
tight. She glanced over his shoulder to see Gaddes quickly avert his  
eyes.  
  
Celena stepped out of the embrace to introduce her new friend.  
"Allen, we met someone on the way; this is Chanel…. Oh, I'm  
sorry I neglected to ask your last name!"  
  
"Yagami." Chanel grinned, sticking out her hand. "I'm  
Chanel Yagami. It's so nice to meet you! Celena's been going on  
about her amazing big brother since I met her."  
  
Allen shook her hand and Celena ran to hug Gaddes. As the rouge swung  
her around, a booming voice sounded from the entrance to the castle.  
  
"Allen Schezar!"  
  
The entire party Spun around to see the tall armored figure in the  
castle's door frame.  
  
"Van!" Allen grinned, stepping away from the girls. Celena  
reached out to draw Chanel out of the danger.  
  
"Best to get out of the way!" she hissed.  
  
"Why?" Chanel glanced at her, perplexed.  
  
"Because boys will be boys." Millerna rolled her eyes as the  
armored King of Fanelia drew his sword and charged.  
  
Celena's attention was drawn to two figures that had been standing  
behind the king in the doorway. One was a beautiful feline teenager in  
an almost Asturian corseted dress, and the other was a graceful young  
woman with mouse brown hair and deep emerald eyes in a classic Fanelian  
dress. Just then, the young woman tripped on the hem of her gown when  
she tried to step off the door stoop, and the cat-girl had to keep her  
from falling while growling and hissing at her. Celena blinked; perhaps  
`graceful' wasn't the appropriate term… but there was  
something different about the woman.  
  
She was distracted by Chanel whispering in her ear. "How long are  
they gonna keep this up?"  
  
Celena glanced at the panting, grinning swordsmen.  
  
"About ten more minutes." She replied.

Chanel noticed the child-like excitement grow in Celena's eyes as she watched the fight.  
  
"Go big brother, go!" Celena cheered, hopping up and down. Chanel smirked. How could she have imagined the woman looked anything like Dilandau Albatou, that sadistic little freak? She couldn't help falling for Celena just a little. The young woman was clearly not a threat, and she had welcomed Chanel as a friend without question. If she had less of a soldier mindset, she might have felt a smidgen of guilt that she was using the girl's innocence to infiltrate Fanelia's palace. She watched the young King Van spar with Allen. He was good. Damned good. Worrisome good. But she knew if she could get that sword from him, she could take him. Which is precisely what she intended to do.   
  
After watching Alseides that fateful night 3 years before, she had used every skill and resource she could make available to find out more about the pilot and his--apparent--demise. Discovering his name was the easy part; deciphering the rumors was a whole different game. No country wanted to claim Dilandau, but dozens of trainers swore that they had been his mentor. Just as many claimed to have been the one to take him down, yet no one could produce proof. He was dead, Chanel had been sure. How else could anyone explain his sudden absence from the battlefield? It was almost as if Dilandau had vanished into thin air--  
  
"Yay, big brother!" Celena cheered as Allen put King Van in a headlock. Her wavy hair bounced on her shoulders as she ran to him and jumped on his back, affectionately looping her arms around his neck.  
  
"Alright, alright, enough!" Van shrugged Allen off of him. He didn't want it to show, but he was still the same poor sport he had always been. He pouted behind the new beard. "Please, won't you all join us inside--"  
  
Van stopped short upon spying the unfamiliar girl in mountain clothes. Chanel felt his gaze burning into her, sizing her up, almost as if he knew of her intentions. 


	7. Reminiscence

"Van, don't stare!" Hitomi scolded.   
  
Chanel felt the weight of her weapon resting against her backside, ready for combat, as she grew edgy in the king's burning stare. The blonde stud and his handsome buddy had gone to handle the luggage for the ladies. It wouldn't be a graceful exit, but she was confident she could escape the remainder of the group if she acted quickly. She would never forgive herself for abandoning her mission this early, however. She wasn't sure what her next move should be, or how to break the tension. Suddenly Celena solved that for her.  
  
"King Van, this is my new friend Chanel," Celena warmly introduced her, as if they'd been childhood pals. "She's looking for a job!"   
  
"No," Van stated flatly.   
  
"Oh. But I thought--" Celena began. Her lip began to quiver. As Hitomi watched her, Celena's face suddenly twisted. Her eyes widened and glowed red, her delicate lips curled into a sneer. Even the tips of her hair turned up. Hitomi gasped, then swooned and stumbled over at Van's feet.   
  
"Hitomi!" Van cried, bending down to her.  
  
"Whew," Chanel exhaled.   
  
"Not this again," Merle grumbled. "What a diva!" She turned and reentered the palace, unimpressed.   
  
Allen and Gaddes rushed to the group now huddled around Hitomi. Snatching her medical bag from Allen's arms, Millerna retrieved the smelling salts to revive her.   
  
"What is it, Hitomi? What's wrong?" Van asked as Hitomi's eyes fluttered open.  
  
In the three years since her return to Earth, Hitomi had suffered no visions. She'd even given up card reading. But now the pendant weighed heavy around her neck, and with it the burden of her gift. She knew her claim would ruin their happy reunion, but she had known from the moment the strange cat woman transported her that this was no pleasure trip. She had been brought back to help Van, and this was exactly how.   
  
"It-it was him," Hitomi mumbled, still not believing it completely herself. She looked up at Celena, who gripped Hitomi's hand tightly, hovering over her in a panic. The poor girl was so tender, tears of worry had even sprung to her eyes. It was impossiblebut Hitomi knew what she saw. "Dilandau," she breathed, the very name terrifying her as she remembered the fiery carnage of battles past.   
  
Allen immediately clapped his hands over Celena's ears and instructed Gaddes to take her to the Crusade. He didn't have to ask twice.   
  
Van put his strong arms around Hitomi and lifted her up. She was barely conscious.   
  
"Don't worry, Allen. Dilandau is--" Van paused, reconsidering. "He's as good as dead."   
  
"I knew her coming here would do nothing but open old wounds," Allen spat angrily.  
  
"Are you suggesting Hitomi is the *cause* of all this?" Van demanded.   
  
"Calm down, boys." Millerna closed her medical bag and stood between the two, preventing an inevitable fight. "She's probably just seeing that face because she's seeing Celena for the first time. Van, take Hitomi inside. She needs rest."   
  
As Van disappeared into the palace, Millerna turned to Allen. She felt the thunder of his panicked heart, even without touching him. "Allen," she took his hand, gently entwining their fingertips. "Celena deserves to know. No matter how ugly, she deserves a past so she can move forward into the future--"  
  
"Enough!" Allen shouted, jerking his hand away from her grasp. "My sister doesn't have some injury you can simply patch up with a little gauze! Celena requires a lifetime of care and attention, but you think of her only as a burden. This is exactly why I could never love you, Millerna!"  
  
Millerna silenced Allen with a violent slap, gritting her teeth against the tears.   
  
"We all deserve a future, Allen. It's time you and I both found our own."

 

ф

 

Gaddes had plucked her from Hitomi's side like a pile of sticks and carted her out of earshot of the group.  
  
"G-Gaddes, put me down!" she squeaked, affected by the feel of his strong arms cradling her and the slight musky scent wafting from his neck. She wasn't usually this aware of him, even when they hugged, but this position was somehow more intimate, being held against his  
chest and gazing up into his chiseled face. Her mind was reeling from what had just happened and this strange awareness towards Gaddes welling up in her chest that she suddenly panicked with the need for air. She  
began kicking and trying to squirm out of his hold.  
  
"Seriously! Put me down!" she cried.  
  
Either he lost his grip, or was offended by her tantrum, but she found herself dumped ungracefully onto a pack of blankets just inside the cargo area of the Crusade.  
  
"Look here, missy." His face was suddenly inches from hers as he gently pinned her down. "The only orders I take are from your brother, got it? Allen's looking out for your best interest, after all."  
  
His tone was soft, but she still felt like he was chiding her as one would do with a child. She turned her head and pouted. She hated it when her brother treated her that way, but to have Gaddes do it was intolerable. She glanced back up to express her anger, but the crimson color on his cheeks stopped her retort. A blush crept into her own face  
as she realized he had just realized that he was pretty much straddling her and was pinning her arms above her head. The scene would certainly appear pseudo-erotic to anyone who might see it. They stared at each other for a moment in mutual embarrassment.  
  
"G-get off me." She murmured, momentarily lost in the gold and blue flecks within his dark green eyes.  
  
He appeared to be as mesmerized by her eyes as he hoarsely replied, "You don't listen very well, love. I just told you I don't take orders."  
  
" Please." She whispered.  
  
Her eyes widened as instead of releasing her, his face drew close to hers, his warm breath wafting across her flushed cheeks. Her heart fluttered into her throat, choking her ability to breathe. She realized he intended to kiss her, and she could scarcely believe it was happening. He'd bring her flowers and she'd treasure them long after their petals withered from the stems. Other than the sparse but  
thoughtful gifts, she'd had no further indication of how he might feel about her.

For almost as long as she could remember she'd cared  
deeply for Gaddes, and in secret her feelings had grown strong enough to drive her mad every time she was near him. For over a year she'd been harboring secret thoughts about this moment. For the past few months she'd pined for more than a hug or brotherly kiss on the cheek. Now, her mind was reeling with the possibility that the one  
shameless dream she had clung to all this time might actually come true.  
  
"Ahem." A soft cough sounded above the entwined couple just as Gaddes' lips were less than an inch from hers.  
  
Gaddes' head snapped up and she could see Pyle and the mole man staring at them incredulously from the top of the pile of blankets. Gaddes glanced down at her, and she met his eyes with the same level of horror.  
  
"This isn't what it looks like!" they cried in dismayed  
unison.

 

Ф

 

Gaddes grumbled something inaudible as he handed a small box containing high-quality Tongli weed to Pyle. He'd been holding on to that stuff for a rainy day, he didn't smoke it anymore, but a pouch always fetched a good price. It was a decent exchange for secrecy, though. Pyle and the mole-man walked off, snickering over the box.  
  
"Um, should I ask what you had to give them?" the soft, shy  
voice caught his attention from the cargo entrance.  
  
He turned and grinned at Celena. "Nothing I couldn't do without, love."  
  
She seemed relieved by that, and smiled back up at him.  
  
"GADDES!" they both jumped and glanced to see Allen stalking towards them at a very, very fast pace. Gaddes hadn't seen his friend that pissed since.. Well, since Hitomi had run off with Van to Fanelia back when they had their short courtship. Man, how time flies.  
  
Before he could ask Allen what was wrong, the blond man had an arm hooked around his neck and was dragging him across the floor.

  
"Celena, stay right there!" Allen barked as he pulled Gaddes  
around a corner.  
  
Allen slammed him up against the wall.  
  
"Easy chief," Gaddes coughed.  
  
"What did you tell her?!" Allen hissed.  
  
"Um, who?" Gaddes rubbed his throat.  
  
"Celena didn't ask about what just happened?" Allen shot him a disbelieving glare.  
  
"Ooooooh."Gaddes had a hard time not blushing "Err- well,  
something came up, no time to discuss it so yea, didn't say a thing."  
  
Allen visibly relaxed. "Thank God."  
  
"Um," Gaddes noticed how red Allen's cheek was, "You got  
a little something on your face there."  
  
Allen winced. "Millerna and I are over, Gaddes."  
  
Gaddes had guessed as much from the foul mood Allen had been in all day. He supposed having Hitomi react to Celena like that just reopened a slew of old wounds for the both of them. Still, he wondered what Allen had done to earn a good `ol smack to the face. Before Gaddes could offer  
condolence, Allen switched subjects.  
  
"What do you think we should tell Celena?"  
  
Gaddes shrugged, not surprised Allen couldn't handle talking about his own problems. "The truth."  
  
Allen slumped against the opposite wall and slid to the floor. He ran his hand through his hair. "Besides that, Gaddes."  
  
"You really think you can keep it a secret forever, Boss?"  
Gaddes prodded gently. "You think she really buys that she was in a coma for seven years?"  
  
"Has she said something to you about it?" Allen's head shot  
up and he stared at Gaddes.  
  
"At first, while she was confused about what had happened. You tried to convince her waking up on a battlefield had been a dream. She had a really hard time with that, Boss."  
  
Gaddes sighed. "I agreed with your decision then; and believe me, I still agree that it'd be better if she didn't know, but if she really wants to pursue it, perhaps it's because she _needs_ to know. You gonna deny her that?"  
  
Allen glanced up at the ceiling. "I can't tell her, Gaddes."  
  
"I know." Gaddes looked down at his feet. Boy, what a  
predicament.  
 

Ф

 

Folken surveyed the gruesome scene in the training room. He had just come from the bloody mess in the propeller engine room, and the gore was wearing thin on his nerves.  
  
He had expected Dilandau to be violent with his new recruits but this... this was unacceptable.  
  
As he avoided getting blood on his shoes, he made his way back up to his room to write his daily report. Idly, he wondered how many of the recruits he could claim had `defected'.  
By his estimation and judging by the missing guymelefs out of the hanger, three remained.  
  
He sat at his desk and a brilliant idea crossed his mind. "Food poisoning might buy some time."   
Folken scribbled down a load of garbage he found difficult to swallow, but made a sound report. As for the other matter His planted Asturian spy had reported what Folken had suspected the last time Valior had called:Chanel Yagami had headed to Fanelia, and just so happened to intercepted by his carriage.  
  
Folken let a sigh of relief pass his lips. At least one item of business had turned out right. Even if the plan concerning the new Dragon Slayers Unit had fallen apart in less than 2 days...

 

He rubbed his eyes and tried to relax. It seemed as of late, whenever he tried, she passed through his vision. If he let his mind wander, her presence consumed him. This time he didn't fight the images, and they settled on one pleasant memory from his former life.  
  
At the time, he had felt less than human. It had been two years since he had woken up on a cold metal table in the Zaibach Empire, and his metallic arm haunted him. He had lost himself to a swell of self-pity sitting in one of the small designated green spaces in the Sorcerer's Complex in the Capital. He laid his head back against the tree he sat under. He closed his eyes and listened to a bird singing in the tree's branches. Strange he was so unused to hearing such a simple sound within the cold inorganic confines of his lab, the library, and the Sorcerer's chambers. He was actually supposed to be picking through the old scriptures in the library at this very moment, but he just couldn't bring himself to care about his coveted research.  
  
"What are you doing, Sorcerer-sama?"  
  
He opened his eyes and found himself staring into eyes the color of the clear blue sky. A young feline girl, about as old as his Nariya and Eriya, was leaning over him with a curious expression. His eyes were drawn to the two small red dots above her eyes brows. He stared at those marks, fixated.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
"Me? I'm Akuma." She smiled, and her tail swished lazily behind her, poking out of the light grey dress she wore. "Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Folken."  
  
"Folken-sama." She purred, and patted his hair.  
  
"It's not as sharp as it looks." She giggled.  
  
His jaw dropped, but before he could respond a pudgy woman in a nun's habit came barreling around the corner.   
  
"Akuma-sama! Aku- Oh, there you are, you naughty thing! What are you doing here?!"  
  
Akuma looked up at the nun with a pout, and Folken noticed how sharp the features of her profile were, even though she couldn't be more than eleven.  
  
"I got to go, Folken-sama." She grinned a fanged grin at him. "I hope to see you again. This is one of my favorite spots; it's one of the only places you can hear birds sing in this stuffy place."  
  
"Akuma-sama! Ashchrim will kill me if you're late. Hurry!"  
  
Rolling her eyes, Akuma pulled away and ran towards the nun who shoved her towards a southern corridor.  
  
Folken stared after them, mouth ajar. He didn't know what startled him more, the Draconian marks on the girl's forehead, or her personality. He tilted his head to better hear the songbird that had started singing happily when Akuma had appeared. His lips parted into a small smile, and decided this could become one of his favorite spots as well...


	8. Triage

Chanel hurriedly rummaged through dozens of ensembles in Millerna's massive travel luggage. After the fat chick passed out, the hot, scruffy brunette had dropped the luggage he was carrying and grabbed Celena. The confusion gave Chanel the chance to drag the bags around the corner of the palace, the lavish gardens offering her the needed cover.   
  
*What is with this girl? Is she planning on clothing this whole damn country?* Chanel thought to herself.  
  
She hadn't expected Van to recognize her. She wasn't even sure how he had, and it was likely he wasn't even sure himself. Her raid on Fanelia was over a decade ago, before her breasts popped out and she was forced to stop her charade as a boy. Even as a tribal ten year old girl, she had realized that to attack a memorial service was in bad taste, but she couldn't care less. Why did the dragon slaying royal youth of Fanelia deserve an honorable memorial service? If she had known where to find the failed prince's body, had he been alive or not, she would have set him ablaze instead. As the entire church went up in flames, she spotted a young boy with thick black hair wiping his eyes and crying as his mother and father desperately tried to drown the fire consuming their vanished son's memorial tomb. Bitterly, she had realized the dragon killing cycle would only continue.   
  
*Ah, perfect!* Chanel pulled a gown from the bag along with a matching headpiece she believed would hide the length of her hair. She was a firm believer in the saying, "If you got it, flaunt it," but this Princess dressed like a nun. Except for all the pink. Blech. Chanel made a face as she slid into the dress. Her muscular, curvy form nearly tore the seams of Millerna's tailored gown, but it was her best bet. If she could just pull her cover off long enough to get Van out of the castle, away from the others, without his sword, she knew she could sweep him away in a second.   
  
As she came around the bushes, she saw the coach driver brushing the horses next to the moat surrounding the palace. Before Chanel could veil her face with the headpiece, he had looked her coldly in the eye. Then, cool and composed, he turned his attention back to the horses. Chanel turned and quickly made for the palace entrance. Would the coach driver report her suspicious activity to the group?   
  
"Millerna!" Allen shouted as Chanel rounded the corner of the palace. Chanel pulled the cloth close around her face and kept moving. "Millerna! Wait!"   
  
Chanel upped her voice a few octaves. "Yes, uhAllen?" That was the jerk's name, right? She could feel him following close behind her as she started up the stairs. Suddenly she felt his hand close around her wrist, stopping her. She kept the cloth pulled close, turning her head from him.  
  
"Millerna, look, we should talk about this."  
  
"I, uh, I don't feel like talking right now!" Chanel jerked her wrist away from him and hurried up the stairs. Allen stared after her, watching Chanel's hips stretch the fabric taught across her buttocks in Millerna's dress.   
  
"Damn," Allen cursed under his breath. "Why does her ass look so good now that she won't put out?!"  
  
After it seemed clear that Allen was familiar with her, Chanel slipped passed the door guards easily. Once inside, she immediately familiarized herself with the layout of the castle. The table was being set for dinner.  
  
"Where is Merle?" a zebra-woman was asking the help as she set the table. "I sent her to get Van and his young mistress twenty minutes ago!"   
  
"I reckon she's still upstairs, moonin' over King Van," another beast-woman answered, lighting the candles. "Poor thing."   
  
Chanel found and climbed the staircase, simply nodding with a smile to the guards along the way.   
  
*All you need is a pretty dress and a pair of knockers to get anywhere in this place,* she thought with a smirk.  
  
As she reached the top of the staircase, she wondered for a moment where she should startbut then heard her answer. Over the years living in the forest, Chanel had trained her ears to pick up on the slightest sound, but anyone with ears could have heard it. Scratch that; you could feel the vibrations through the hallway! Chanel grinned. Mixed with Van's moans of ecstasy were two female voices.   
  
*That King Van's a freak!* Chanel laughed to herself. Upon reaching his room, she found his door swung wide open. *A freak! And he don't care who knows it!*  
  
Chanel knelt on the floor, creeping across the cold stone into his bedroom. The air was hot and humid with body heat. Van's sword leaned, completely unguarded, near the bedside table. The volume of the passionate cries easily covered the sounds of Millerna's billowy dress dragging the floor as Chanel made her way to the sword. With a wide grin, she retrieved the weapon and made her way out of the room just as the cat girl screamed with pleasure to announce her climax.   
  
"What are you doing?" a voice asked as Chanel stood outside the room. She jumped, gripping the sword tight. Swinging around she discovered the coach driver, Ralph Estanz.   
  
"You!?" Chanel scoffed. "Ha!" She unsheathed Van's sword, wielding it expertly. Swordplay wasn't one of her stronger skills, but she could easily dispatch a civilian. "I was just on my way out. Maybe you should decide how important protecting your princess' friends is to you."  
  
"Folken told me to keep an eye out for you, Miss Yagami," Ralph answered with a smirk. Chanel was taken aback.  
  
"Huh? Who's Folken?"   
  
"There will be plenty of time to explain once we get to the Vione II, where you will be officially recruited into the Zaibach military."  
  
"With Dilandau Albatou...." Chanel sighed dreamily.   
  
"I'm afraid so." Ralph grinned. "However--" Before Chanel could react or guess at what had happened, Ralph had Van's sword in his hands. "Zaibach has strategized and prepared (pepared xD) for the next war every day since the last ended. Therefore I cannot allow you to complete your rogue mission, as impressive as it may be. To strike just now, especially at such a sensitive point as Fanelia, would be disastrous."   
  
Suddenly a thundering boom shook the castle and a familiar, evil cackle echoed through its walls.   
  
"Dilandau," Chanel and Ralph gasped in unison. As Ralph's eyes widened, so did Chanel's excited grin.

 

                                        Ф

 

Celena hummed to herself as she unpacked her bags. Today had been exciting, if nothing else. Everyone had insisted the girl with brown hair who'd fainted after the fight was all right. Celena was relieved to hear that, and couldn't wait for a chance to get to know her at dinner. She'd hoped to learn more about the person the girl had been babbling about. From everyone's reactions, it was bound to  
be a really interesting story!  
  
"Milady?" A badger woman tapped at the door.  
  
"Yes?" Celena smiled.  
  
"Pardon me, dinner's about to be served."  
  
"Oh, thank you very much- I'll be right down!"  
  
Celena hung up her last gown and clapped her hands. She took a spin in front of the mirror to make sure she still looked presentable. Staring at her reflection, her eyes were drawn to the purple stone in her pendant. A light blush flushed her cheeks as she thought about the cargo  
bay. She drew her fingers lightly across her lips as she stared at the mirror. It had been so close and so unexpected. Could Gaddes really feel the same way about her?  
  
"Gaddes..." she whispered, drawing close to the mirror. What  
would it feel like, would his lips be soft? What would it taste like... would it stop there, or would he d-d-deep k-ki-- No! What was she thinking?! She shook her head furiously, embarrassed by the thought of his tongue in her mouth. She looked at her reflection again. What would it be like... she shut her eyes and puckered her lips,  
planting them lightly on the mirror. Its surface was cold and smooth. Not the best object to embody the real thing.

She drew back, feeling silly. With a sigh, she decided she'd better be heading to dinner instead of indulging silly little fantasies-- Horror overcame her as she recognized a second reflection in the mirror.  
  
"B-Brother!" she spun around, her face flushing.  
  
The look on his face matched her own.  
  
"C-Celena" he glanced away from her. " What-"  
  
"No, I-"she furiously try to think of something to explain her  
behavior. "I, I was... I tripped!" she grabbed her nose as if  
it hurt; "So clumsy." she scrambled away from the mirror.  
  
"I came to collect you for dinner." He coughed, refusing to look at her.  
  
"O-Oh. Thank you." She let go of her nose, and started fidgeting.  
  
"I I'm glad you didn't injure yourself." Allen glanced at her and away again.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Um, when you tripped."  
  
"Oh," she was glad he was accepting her lame lie, "Y-yes.  
Thank goodness Well, shall we go to dinner?"  
  
She squeezed past him in the doorway. As they walked down the hallway, neither could seem to stir up any conversation. Celena didn't want to look at her brother. Oh, how she wished something could save her from  
this awkward situation! A thundering noise rang through the hallway and the ground shook. Celena screamed as she really did lose balance, but Allen caught her. As the rumbling subsided, she could hear the echoes of  
cackling ringing through the walls.  
  
"W-What was that?!" she cried and glanced up at Allen, who  
looked as pale as a ghost.  


Ф

 

Dilandau opened the cockpit of his newly restored machine to watch the chaos unfold. Alseides' previous red had been painted a glossy pitch black, and goddammit if he didn't get those bitchin' flames, company funds be damned! Money talks, but a blade kills. Guess which wins.  
  
Dilandau realized the red of Alseides had to be painted to hide his identity. Folken had said as much when he scolded Dilandau for taking her out where anyone could see her. Red melefs were rare, and Alseides units even rarer. He had generously tried explaining to the mechanic that black just wasn't flashy enough, but it took cold steel to convince him to add the artwork. The flames curled back across her metal shell like the legs of a spider. Just looking at her made him tremble with excitement. His new Dragonslayers, Kojiro, Yamato and Alex, piloted three orange machines. From the top of Fanelia's palace, Dilandau could watch the citizenry funnel out of the village en masse as their new buildings exploded into flame.   
  
Dilandau chucked to himself. Folken was going to be soooooooo pissed. God it was fun getting him wound up.   
  
But what was he supposed to do? Zaibach had given him no instruction, no rules and practically no supervision. He understood that his current task at hand was to collect the Dragonslayers and train them. How was he supposed to do all that in the Vione? Fanelia was a new citymore of a village, really. Why wouldn't it be a good spot for target practice?Dilandau was just choosing a site, a remote location in the middle of nowhere, to give his men some real world training.   
  
His hunch that Fanelia would give him clues to his past had little, if anything, to do with it.

 

Ф

 

The heavy wood of Van's clawmark-streaked headboard pounded against the wall of his chambers. The sound was deafening, but the three lovers heard nothing. Hitomi cradled Merle's head in her arms as she watched Van thrust into her, his eyes closed in ecstasy. *My God, he's beautiful,* she thought.  
  
Van was on the brink of release, but didn't want to let go. His soul burned with a passion so new and mysterious that he had only begun to explore. He felt it inside his loyal companion, the way she moaned his name as he drove into her again and again. He saw it reflected in Hitomi's eyes, the look of peace on her face, and he realized he wanted to save something for her. *Fuck, Hitomi. You might have to wait.*  
  
Hitomi felt a long, low rumble forceful enough to overpower the slamming of the bed. Her face must have reflected her surprise and confusion, because Van stopped suddenly.  
  
"Hitomi?" Van asked, his eyes euphorically glazed.  
  
Suddenly, the vision of a red pendulum swinging struck Van's mind. It swang synchronously for a few seconds, before strangely pointing straight up. Van gasped, eyes wide open. Hitomi must have seen it too, as she was already staring at the ceiling apprehensively. "What's happening, Van?" she whispered in fear.  
  
Merle mumbled something in a lightheaded, loopy voice which they couldn't understand through the pillow she was pushed face-down into. Her tail twitched in the air. Van stood from the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.  
  
"Van! Van, what was that sound?" Hitomi asked.  
  
"Hitomi, you and Merle take the secret hallway down to the vino cellar!" Van ordered.  
  
Van reached for his sword by the bedside table, only to find empty space.  
  
"What? Dammit where is my sword?" Van yelled.  
  
Another rumble shook the castle.  
  
"Van, get Escaflowne!" Hitomi shouted. "You have to fight with Escaflowne!"  
  
A cold feeling gripped Van's gut. Escaflowne was parked in the peaceful countryside of Fanelia, serving as a memorial statue near the graves of his family. How could he have been so foolhardy as to retire the Ispano machine? He had only just finishedwell, almost finishedrealizing the infinite and endless potential of the heart to love and be loved with the help of the most important people in his life, his lover and his lifelong best friend. Was this beautiful vision of a new, peaceful reality a mere fantasy, doomed to be swallowed into the mouth of cold, timeless war? Folken had been right: Van never had the heart for combat. Or the mind, for that matter.   
  
"Van-sama!" Merle cried as Van dashed out of the chamber wordlessly. Hitomi wrapped her arms around her.  
  
"It's okay, Merle. I know Van will be alright."  
  
Merle sniffed. "But he forgot his clothes!"  
  
Van ran down the staircase of the castle. Through the giant panoramic window that overlooked Fanelia, he could see the flames dancing across his homeland. Who could have been responsible for this? Didn't all of Gaea wish for the same peaceful future they had worked so hard for three years before?  
  
Van emerged in the courtyard, where he looked up and saw the metallic monstrosity standing atop the castle. A guymelef! But who? The treaty existed to secure a future that didn't need guymelefs! Van stopped suddenly. He knew the only country that might have wished to continue the technology: Zaibach, the country built on the cold metal of science rather than the rich, fertile soil of Gaea. Through the pitch black of the night, he saw painted flames illuminated by the true fire destroying his country.  
  
*Who in the hell?* Van asked himself. That had to be one obnoxious asshole. Rage bubbled over inside of him. Unarmed and unclothed, Van climbed the garden lattice up to the roof, where he sprinted for the tower. As he ran up the spiral staircase, he could see the guymelef hulking about the rooftop. But why was it just standing there? What was it waiting for? As he ascended the stairs of the tower, he got closer and closer to the cockpit.   
  
*When I get my hands on that pilot, I'll kill him. I'm not allowing my country to be destroyed again!* Van had much more to lose this time around.  
  
When Van reached eye-level with the Guymelef, he jumped out of the small stone window in the tower and deftly landed on the melef's shoulder. Van pounced on the shielded helmet of the melef and pounded on the visor.  
  
"Come out you coward and face me!" Van demanded. "I am the king of Fanelia, and you are about to be destroyed!"  
  
A familiar cackle echoed inside the cockpit. Van gasped. It couldn't be....


	9. The Blood Boils

Dilandau marched Alseides across the roof of the palace. One way or another he would flush out the ruler of this pathetic little village. Then he would have his answers.  
  
He didn't quite know what to expect when the ruler finally did emerge for combat, but certainly not this. A man claiming to be Fanelia's king had thrown himself against the window of Alseidescompletely naked. When the man threatened to destroy him, Dilandau could hardly catch his breath with laughter. The laughter stopped, however, when the man pounded Alseides metal hull, placing a fist-sized indention in her new body. Growling with rage, Dilandau popped open the cockpit and grabbed the alleged King around the throat.

His maroon eyes were clearer now, not from sleep but with the lust for battle. Standing in the pilot's seat, his strong arms held Van high above the ground by the neck. His sleeveless red coat, buckled around his slender waist, fluttered in the evening wind. In place of his linen pajamas, he now wore a tight-fitting black bodysuit with orange pads built-in, the color special ordered to match the flames painted across Alseides and the knee-high Zaibach military-issued boots he now wore. On his hands he wore black, fingerless gloves which were perfect, as he could feel Van's tightening muscles and the pound of the blood in his jugular with his bare fingertips.   
  
"This ride was cherry, you son of a bitch!" he shouted as Van flailed wildly in his grasp. Dilandau looked at the dent and groaned. "I guess they could pop that out with a plunger... But I'm still really, REALLY pissed." He reached into his belt, pulling his dagger and placing it under Van's chin.

 

"Van!!!"  
  
Allen launched himself at the guymelef's pilot and swung his sword.  
Van was dropped like a stone as the pilot dodged Allen's attack. As soon as his feet touched the stones of the roof, Allen faced the one thing that could freeze the knight in horror. The one thing that had been his secret nightmare for three long years... Dilandau Albatou stood poised on the platform of a flame-painted black guymelef, looking down at him with the same bloodlust fire burning in his eyes as he had always had.  
  
"Commander!!!" Gaddes came tumbling up the stairs,  
"What's-"  
  
"Van! Your clothes-"Hitomi came barreling up behind Gaddes, a sheet wrapped loosely around her own naked figure.  
  
Allen shot a glance to the new arrivals, and then where Van lay on the ground, stark naked. Allen quickly averted his eyes back to Dilandau, who seemed just as embarrassed for the young naked king as he. Gaddes, as expected, just now noticed.  
  
"Oh my god!" he cried, grabbing the bundle from Hitomi and throwing it at Van.  
  
Allen couldn't concentrate on the others; his mind was consumed by the impossibility standing in front of his sword. Celena, his sister,was downstairs so who- or what, was this?!

 

"Everyone! Back inside the castle!" Allen ordered the others. "Gaddes, protect Celena!"   
  
Gaddes herded everyone back into the castle and Van began scrambling into his clothes. Allen was sure Dilandau would leap back into his guymelef and begin spitting his flames across the rooftop, perhaps skewering them with the crima claw he had always been so fond of. Instead, Dilandau did a backflip off of Alseides platform, landing in a ready crouch just inches away. Allen barely had time to jump back before Dilandau's arm struck like a snake. The glint of the blade was the only warning Allen had that Dilandau even held a weapon, and when he looked down he saw a long horizontal tear across his shirt. Had the blade landed its mark, he would have been disemboweled in one swipe. Before he could make his own move, Dilandau had spun around and hooked Allen's sword with his curved dagger, landing a solid blow with his boot to Allen's chest. Allen hit the ground, the air knocked out of him, his sword clattering near Dilandau's feet. Van, now partially clothed, watched as Dilandau bent to retrieve the sword. He expected Dilandau would try to run him through with both blades. Instead, he scoffed with a smirk and tossed the sword to the half-naked king.   
  
"If you truly are the King of Fanelia, then perhaps you can give me answers..." Dilandau's words had the same liquid quality as before, lilting crazily within phrases, a strange longing urging the words from his lips to trickle into the ears of his opponents. It was a quality that had always disarmed Van. Before, he could hide the weakness behind his guymelef, but now his clenched teeth and beading sweat made Dilandau laugh.  
  
"Don't be nervous, Fanelia. I only want to talk." A cackle slipped over the last syllable.   
  
Van noticed that the bastard was so cocky he wasn't even wielding his knife, only twirling it at his side as he slowly forced Van to back away from him in circles. Van gripped the unfamiliar hilt of Allen's sword in his hand, trying to regain some of his confidence while wearing only a pair of briefs and an unbuttoned dress shirt. Dilandau had changed, that was for sure. He had aged, just as Van had himself. Only instead of maturing and settling into a contented life, Dilandau had only become a stronger warrior, even hungrier for the hunt than before. His shoulders had broadened, and he had even gained a few inches in height. His silver hair was no longer feathered and feminine, but draped across a more chiseled jawline, a jawline free from scarring. His confidence was alarming. The only thing more terrifying than the cowardly psycho pyromaniac of three years past was the fearless psycho pyromaniac standing before them now. Van felt he wouldn't be able to drive Dilandau away with physical force.   
  
"If you only wanted to talk, why all this?" Van asked angrily, gesturing behind him to the smoldering village he would have to rebuild yet again.   
  
"Oh, stop whining." Dilandau picked his nails with the blade, increasing his stride toward Van without even looking up. Van jumped away, but Dilandau simply walked to the edge of the roof and looked at the smoldering neighborhoods. "Your people's homes were made of mud and weeds. This bad ass jacket cost more than it would take to refurnish your entire village." Van simply glared suspiciously. Dilandau huffed and rolled his eyes. "If I really wanted to start shit, wouldn't I have stormed your castle? Pissed on your holy grounds? I just wanted to have a little fun and get your attention." Dilandau grinned, revealing yet another change in him: his teeth were like fangs, like the teeth of a wildcat. And the grin wasn't sinisterit was almost playful. It was as if he really believed the attack was a game. A flirtation, even.   
  
Van lowered his sword slightly. "Then what are you after?"  
  
"Like I said, I just want to talk." Dilandau slid in close to Van, almost seductively. Van turned away in disgust.  
"I don't owe you any discussion!" He shouted. "Twice you've burned my homeland to the ground!"  
Dilandau's eyes glittered in the firelight with excitement, the mouthful of fangs widening.   
"Twice, eh? That is something."   
Van turned back to face Dilandau, their faces inches from one another.  
"You don't remember..." Van breathed.   
"Look, Fanelia," He placed the cold blade flat on Van's cheek, directing him to look over the firescape to the shadowy mountains just past the burning homes. "Your people are all there, safe. I gave strict instruction to my Slayers to avoid harming the citizenry. That is, as long as you cooperate."  
  
Van darkened. "What is it you want?"  
  
Dilandau stroked the blade slowly across Van's cheek, tilting his head and shoulders in close. "Just name the bastard who killed me in the last war, and I'll be on my way."  
  
Allen, just having caught his breath, held it again. Van glanced to Allen over Dilandau's cold blade for only a second, locking eyes with him. He was thinking the same thing. To tell Dilandau the truth would be to involve Celena, the last thing Allen would ever allow.

 

"It was me." Allen stood.  
  
"On the final battle ground I was the one who dealt the final blow that destroyed your Alseides. Van was all ready on his way to the capital, Zaibach had all ready lost. You attacked him and I intervened."  
  
Dilandau's entire face contorted as Allen spoke. His coy expression darkened and then twisted into a snarl.  
  
Allen stared him down coolly, waiting.  


                                      Ф

  
  
Gaddes ushered Hitomi back downstairs, nearly colliding with Millerna and Merle.  
  
"What's going on, Gaddes?" Millerna cried.  
  
He stared at her in shock. "You left Celena alone downstairs?!"  
  
"She's fine; she's with the servants in the kitchens.  
What's going on? Where's Allen?!"  
  
Gaddes ushered the women downstairs. "They're okay, they're okay! I gotta get you all to safety first!"  
  
As he herded the women towards the kitchens, his thought crashed upon each other in waves. That had been Dilandau Albatou, hadn't it? It seemed like the same person, but that was so completely impossible...  
the person who'd been that psycho little bastard was who he was now rushing towards. His Celena! he shook those thoughts from his head.  
All that mattered was getting to her and getting these women to the Crusade. After that, he could help Allen and concentrate on whoever was responsible for that Dilandau lookalike upstairs.  


Ф

 

An electric crackling sound came from Ralph Estanz pocket, then called his name. He retrieved a pocket watch from his pants, but when he opened the case there was a video transmission from Folken rather than a clock-face.   
  
"Sir," Ralph answered, staring into the watch. Chanel couldn't believe Zaibach's awesome spy gear! She'd only been taught tactics at which she excelled, but with the right technology, she'd be unstoppable!   
  
"By now you must be aware of the situation with Dilandau," Folken calmly stated. The thundering of Alseides feet could be heard just above them in the castle. Crumbling mortar rained from the ceiling.  
  
"Yes, sir. He's arrived at Fanelia's castle," Ralph answered.   
  
"We are sending reinforcements after him. Should you have any opportunity to apprehend Dilandau, you may use as much physical force as you deem necessary, but do not kill him."  
  
"If I may, sir," Estanz interjected, a sardonic grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tried to retain his dignified composure. "Would it not be more efficient to simply kill this version and clone a new copy?"   
  
Chanel gasped. A copy? Surely their technology wasn't great enough...  
  
"Do not question your orders, Estanz, simply follow them. You are to apprehend Dilandau at any cost but his life." The transmission ended abruptly. Just as Ralph lowered the communicator-watch, Chanel smashed her fist into his jaw, knocking him to the ground. Grabbing Van's sword, she bolted down the corridor.

 

                                       Ф  
  
Meanwhile, downstairs, Celena was pacing nervously in the kitchen with the help.   
  
"It's just like three years ago! It's happening all over again!" Shetalo cried, her voice shaking.  
  
"The city's on fire!" shouted a worker, running into the kitchen. "Dechevny swears the guymelef on the roof is an Alseides unit! Just like before!"  
  
"Could it-no, it couldn't be Dilandau..." Shetalo remembered the eerie cackling, the burning of their homes, having to rebuild everything.  
  
"Dilandau?" Celena asked. "Hitomi said that name before."  
  
"Hitomi foresaw this?" Shetalo asked. "Her visions were never wrong before... Why wouldn't Van warn the city!?"  
  
"Because Dilandau's dead!" the kitchen worker insisted.  
  
"No, he's not," Gaddes interrupted, entering the kitchen.   
  
"Gaddes!" Celena cried, throwing herself into his arms. "I'm so glad you're safe."  
  
"Celena, I'm so glad you're still a chick!" Gaddes breathed into her hair.  
  
Celena pulled back. "What?"  
  
"Huh? OhI mean... C'mon, let's get to the Crusade! No telling when he'll attack the castle itself." The kitchen workers began scrambling about in a panic to escape.   
  
Gaddess took Celena's hand and they began running for the door. At the same time, Chanel was making her way down the stairs, carrying Van's sword.   
  
"Chanel!" Celena cried.   
  
"Huh? Oh! Celena!" Chanel stopped in her tracks.  
  
"C'mon, Chanel, we've got to get to the Crusade! The city is burning!" Celena ran up to Chanel, grasping her hand and pulling her toward the door.   
  
"Iuh--" Chanel stammered.  
  
"Why do you have the King's sword?" Gaddes asked suspiciously.  
  
"I was taking it to him," Chanel answered quickly.  
  
"The King is on the rooftop," Gaddes told her.   
  
"Oh, then I better head there!" Chanel attempted to backtrack, but Gaddes pulled his own blade. Chanel gulped. If this guy was Allen's buddy, he was probably very skilled with the blade. She wasn't sure of her next move.  
  
"Gaddes, what are you doing?" Celena asked, completely oblivious, as she stepped in front of Chanel protectively. Suddenly Chanel's arm wrapped around her and Van's blade was pushed against her neck.   
  
"Stay back, handsome, or your girlfriend gets it," Chanel warned venomously.  
  
"Celena!" Gaddes cried.  
  
"Chanel-- what, what are you doing?" Celena stuttered.   
  
"Don't talk, Celena... Just do what I say, and you don't have to panic." Chanel felt awful for involving her. If there was one person she was sure had nothing to do with Dilandau's plans, it was sweet, delicate Celena.   
  
The sword tilted against Celena's neck in such a way that caused the flat part of the blade to rest against her cheek. As the metal pushed against her flesh, her fear was overcome with a deep seeded anger that she couldn't place. Something in her gut began burning, and her chest was heaving. The pendant around her neck that Gaddes had given her suddenly seared her flesh. In a flash she had elbowed Chanel hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.   
  
"Celena!" Gaddes cried as Chanel doubled over. Instead of running into his arms, Celena turned to him, rage burning in her eyes. She violently tore the billowy silk skirt from her dress, leaving her frilly pantaloons exposed. As she ran up the stairs she kicked off her high-heeled shoes.   
  
*Why am I so angry?* Celena thought to herself, panting as she bolted up the stairs and through the long corridors. Her own voice sounded girly and weak in her head. She felt the pendant heavy around her neck, almost as if it was pulling her forward. She burst through the roof entrance, seeing the giant machine gleaming in the firelight. The raging flames surrounding the building strangely calmed her.

"Allen, no!" Van shouted. With one quick shove, Dilandau sent Van flying over the edge of the castle.   
"Van!" Allen shouted.  
  
Dilandau raised his dagger and arched his back, ready to pounce. There was no game involved now, no fair-play by returning his sword. He was simply going to flay him, then perhaps have the skin tanned to upholster the cockpit of his Alseides. He grinned wildly, the corners of his mouth twitching. The mouthful of fangs unsettled Allen, causing the normally fearless man to take one step back. With an animal scream, Dilandau charged.  
  
"Brother!" Celena's voice cut through the night.   
  
"Celena, no!" Allen cried, reaching toward her. As he did, Dilandau pulled one arm back and swipedand landed it this time. Allen hit his knees, holding his bowels in with both hands before toppling over lifelessly.   
  
"Brother!" Celena screamed through her fingers. She too hit her knees and began hyperventilating, watching the growing pool of blood around her lifeless brother.   
  
Dilandau looked down at Allen's body and laughed lazily. It felt good to slice open the belly of his once rival, a rival of which he had no recollection. It felt even better to watch him bleed. But Dilandau was well aware that torture would give him that feeling over and over again. And Allen gave him the perfect means.   
  
"Celena..." Allen coughed.   
  
Dilandau knelt in front of the trembling young woman and lifted her chin with the bloodied tip of his dagger. Celena shuddered violently as her blue eyes met his fire-red gaze. He narrowed his eyes as he examined her. Something about her.... The glint of flames reflected off of the stone in her pendant. He traced a line of her brother's blood down her cheek with his knife, using it to lift the jewel closer to him. His other hand raised slowly, reaching toward his tiara.   
  
Suddenly the hum of incoming airships, machines he knew could only belong to Zaibach, were heard overhead.   
  
"Shit. Party's over," Dilandau grumbled.   
  
"Dilandau Albatou," the bullhorn of a guymelef called. "Release your prisoners and surrender yourself."   
  
"Fuck that!" Dilandau shouted back. Celena gasped as he roughly pulled her to her feet, turning toward her. His fanged, cheerful grin was uncomfortably close. "We're going for a ride." He pulled her toward Alseides, stopped by a voice calling down from the platform of his guymelef.   
  
"Dilandau Albatou," Ralph Estanz called to him. "Zaibach has prepared other means to return you to the base, as you cannot be trusted with your own machine."   
  
"What!?!" Dilandau shouted. "That's bullshit!" he stomped as if throwing a temper tantrum.   
  
"Tell it to Strategos." Ralph grinned. "Your new boss."   
  
Dilandau's face fell. "Oh, _hell_ no."   
  
Ralph made himself comfortable in the cockpit and inhaled the new-guymelef smell before punching the gas and leaving Dilandau in his smoke. 

 

                                        Ф  
  
Chanel had kicked Gaddes feet out from under him, giving her enough time to flee. Just as she reached the door of the palace, hundreds of uniformed Zaibach soldiers marched into the castle. One man cornered her against a wall and started reciting a letter robotically.   
  
"Fanelian citizen: A Zaibach soldier has gone AWOL, and we have reason to believe he has entered your territory. We have come to reclaim him and offer reparations for the damage done to your country because of this unfortunate event."  
  
"Dude... I'm not a citizen," Chanel told him. He immediately turned from her and continued inside the castle. Chanel ran into the night, the flames still smoldering just outside the palace gates. Above the palace hovered an enormous military airship. She could hear Dilandau's voice screaming curses from the rooftop, waving his middle-finger at the ship. His voice made her giddy.   
  
Around her neck was a choker she had worn for thirteen years. It was made of simple cord, tied around a red ring with a razor-thin, diamond shaped shard of metal dangling in it's center. She pricked her thumb with the point of the metal, allowing her blood to drip into the circle.   
  
"You fuckers will have to kill me if you think I'm riding shotgun in some piece of shit leviship!" Dilandau shouted, pulling Celena close to him. Suddenly the airship bullhorn started barking orders to the soldiers on the ground.   
  
"Soldiers, clear the palace entrance, I repeat clear the palace courtyard and entrance!" The ship heated its levistones and began to transcend higher into the air.   
  
"Hm?" Dilandau peered over the side of the rooftop, only to be knocked backwards by the force of a giant reptilian wing. Celena toppled over beside him.   
  
"What the--?" he marveled as a giant flying dragon landed on the rooftop. He had to scramble backwards to keep out from under its feet, narrowly avoiding its large talons. The beast blew a puff of smoke into his face, throwing him and Celena into a coughing fit.   
  
"Need a ride?" Chanel's voice called. Dilandau waved the smoke away, revealing Chanel riding bareback on the scaly monster.   
  
"Sweet," Dilandau muttered, genuinely impressed. 

 

                                         Ф  
  
Gaddes burst through the roof entrance just in time to see Dilandau forcing Celena behind Chanel on the dragon's back at knifepoint.   
  
"Celena!" Gaddes cried, sprinting toward her.  
  
"Gaddes!" she held out her hand, reaching toward him as the dragon launched itself from the rooftop. So desperate to reach her, Gaddes nearly launched himself as well. Instead, he was forced to watch his love, the sister of his best friend, disappear over the flaming city into the night.   
  
"Gadd... Gaddes--"   
  
He turned to Allen's weak voice. His companion was as pale as death, his breathing ragged.   
  
"Boss!" He scrambled toward Allen.   
  
"Wh-where's Celena? Did you protect Celena?"   
  
Gaddes stiffened, then began sobbing into his friend's laboring chest.


End file.
